Identity
by somethingcreative09
Summary: No one likes working on a case involving a kid- but this one hits a little too close to home. Case stuff and of course different relationships.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Working on this one for a while now, this chapter's mainly set up, but keep with it and a promise it'll get more exciting!**

**I don't own anything- just playing :)**

Prologue

January

Angela stared at the picture that had been taken just three weeks prior. It had been a rare occasion; just about everyone from the Jeffersonian had come out to celebrate- even Clark Edison, Brennan's intern who loathed mixing work and play, had joined in the festivities and had worn a Santa hat almost all night. Though that probably had more to do with how many eggnogs he'd had than anything else. The group had been large and boisterous, the kind of night Angela loved. She'd made everyone pose for the picture, and while some of them had complained, they all looked genuinely happy to be together. She couldn't believe how much had changed. She touched the face of the young girl in the center, her breath catching as her eyes teared. Now looking at the picture she could see what she had missed that night. A shadow in the girl's face, a ghost in her eyes. As if she had known what was coming.

VVVV

October

Max was relieved they finally found someone for him to work with, usually the applicants ran screaming when they found out who they'd be working closely with. Not that he didn't understand their… apprehension, but publicly at least, he was found 'not guilty'. Shouldn't that count for something? He wondered if the newest applicant had heard all the gory details yet, or if over their lunch break she would mysteriously decide to quit after someone in the cafeteria informed her of his issues with the legal system. He scrutinized his new assistant, as if sizing her up for a con. She was physically small, not much bigger than the kids they would be looking after, but she had a quality about her that he couldn't quite pinpoint. Something that said she could handle herself, and he mused, handle corralling a bunch of ten year olds. If he were planning to con her, she'd be a definite challenge. It piqued his interest. Her soft brown eyes were friendly, but slightly wary. Of course that could just be his imagination; to Max, if you weren't wary you were naive. She reminded him of someone, but before he could put his finger on exactly who, she introduced herself.

"I guess you're Mr. Keenan? I'm Samantha Kline. The security guards at the front desk told me to report to you after I got my badge and clearances taken care of." She looked at him expectantly.

"Hey Sam, call me Max. If we're gonna be working together, we might as well cut the formalities, right?" She smiled softly and nodded. "We'll be working with some great kids let me tell you, but that doesn't mean they won't give us a run for our money now and then."

"I'm pretty good with kids, I'm not worried about that part of the job." She hesitated for a second before rushing ahead. "To be honest though, I'm a little worried about the science aspect. I'm not an idiot but I can't say I'm all that knowledgeable on the subject." She held her breath waiting for his response.

"What subject would that be exactly?"

She looked confused but answered, "Well… Science…In general." Max barked laughter but took pity on the girl when she flinched slightly at his outburst.

"Let me guess, you didn't get straight A's in your chemistry and biology classes and that makes you think you don't have a firm enough grasp on science. Tell me- what do you know about tornadoes?"

"Tornadoes? Well they happen when warm moist air is trapped beneath cool dry air and then is pushed upwards. If it rises rapidly enough it spins around a central funnel and creates a tornado." She held herself a little straighter, pleased that she knew the answer, but was visibly prepared for… something. Max wondered what kind of man Sam expected him to be and decided to go out of his way to be friendly.

"See? You're already prepared for today's lesson! Relax! You'll be terrific." He grinned at her and clapped her on the back. "C'mon, I'll give you a tour of the place."

"Thanks, I mean I've been to the museum plenty of times, so you really don't have to."

"The museum? That's just the boring stuff. I happen to be related to one of the higher ups over in the legal medical lab. That's where the fun stuff happens. The kids won't be here for another hour or so, I'll introduce you to everyone over there."

"You're daughter's Dr. Brennan right? The woman who was honored for figuring out what happened to that mummy?" She blushed and glanced at the floor, " I.. um.. Googled you when they told me who I'd be working with." Max's eyes went wide.

"And you still decided to come and work with me? I'm impressed. Not many people would." Sam drew herself up to her full height and looked him in the eye.

"I wanted the job and with everything I read about your case, I don't have anything to worry about from you." Max chuckled to himself. He knew exactly who Sam reminded him of now- his late wife Ruth, back when they had first met. The connection warmed him to her even more and he was suddenly looking forward to the coming months. He could tell he would have to approach her cautiously or she would close herself off. He remembered all the things that had happened to his wife that had eventually formed her into the fierce, protective, strong wife and mother she turned out to be. He looked at Sam and saw that she had that same look of iron in her expression and understood that she was already stronger than she should have to be. He smiled warmly at her.

"Well you're right about that. C'mon let's go meet my famous daughter."

VVVVVVV

December…

Sam knocked softly at the office of Angela Montenegro.

"Hey Ang I grabbed you a latte on my way in this morning. I feel like crap and I didn't even drink anything, so you must be feeling…"

"Oh Sam you're a goddess that's exactly what I'm needing right now." Angela gratefully took the extra large latte and leaned against her desk. Usually she enjoyed her office and it's stark contrast to the rest of the lab. While it was still professional and functional, her office definitely had personality- colors, pictures, and _life_ everywhere. Today of course, with her massive hang over, her office just looked… loud. Walking out into the main area of the lab wouldn't be any better though, it's steel surfaces gleaming harshly with the bright lights were not going to be pleasant today. "I know it's a drag to be twenty when you want to go out and have fun, but today sweetie, today be thankful you can't drink. I can still feel the beat of the music pounding on my temples." She groaned and closed her eyes.

"That's not just your hangover, I can still feel it too. That place was intense! I loved it but I think I'll need some time to recuperate before doing that again. Of course if the same door man is there next time we should just turn around! The way he kept staring at me I didn't think he was ever going to let me in. I know I look young but I don't look under eighteen do I?" Angela laughed, then grimaced holding her temples.

"Honey, Brennan says all the time how much your 'cranial facial structure looks like that of an adolescent'. Trust me, when you're forty you'll be glad you look younger."

"Maybe. It didn't exactly help move things along last night when she pointed it out in scientific terms to the doorman. He acted like she was offending him or something. Next time you're doing all the talking. It's like you can magically bend any man to your will. I have to admit, I'm jealous."

"It's called flirting sweetie, though from time to time it does produce a little magic." Angela grinned mischievously. "I wish Bren would've stayed longer- that tall guy really wanted to get to know her better. And I don't mean conversationally."

Sam laughed, "Yeah but I bet she's feeling a whole lot better than either of us about now," Sam glanced at her watch and sighed, "The kids will be here soon I should go. They're all going to be extra crazy today, I can feel it in my bones."

"Good luck with that. I'll be here if you want to stop by and go to lunch. I'm hoping for a case free day where I can just sit at my desk and fantasize about painting the whole room black." Sam laughed and walked out the door saying,

"Yea that'd be great. I've been meaning to ask you a few questions about that last project you did. Remind me later when I'm frazzled and brain dead."

A few minutes later Hodgins walked in holding a skull with tissue depth markers scattered over it. He put it on the desk and stood next to her chair. She leaned on her arm and smiled up at him. His eyes matched their lab coats and you could practically see them across a football field.

"Girls night out huh? I would be jealous but you don't look so good right now." His eyes twinkled with barely contained amusement. "I take it you had a good time?"

"I'm trying not to think about last night Jack" He leaned down close to her face, his eyes locked on hers, glancing surreptitiously at her lips once or twice.

"As I recall, I was especially adept at helping you overcome your 'morning after' symptoms." His voice had dropped an octave or so. Angela's mind went from concentrating on her throbbing temples to concentrating on the throbbing in a completely different area of her body. She tried to keep her breathing even as her heart sped up. With one sentence Jack had made her swoon. Swoon!! Damn Sweets and his stupid experiment! She had taken it this far though, and would see it through to the end, whenever that was. She allowed regret to slip into her eyes as she gazed back at him and smiled softly. Jack straightened and returned it with a sad smile of his own. He cleared his throat. "Dr. Brennan wanted me to bring this to you- it's another Jane Doe from limbo. Get to it when you can, there's no rush."

"Jack.. I.." She stopped, struggling for the words.

"It's okay Angie, I get it. Doesn't mean I won't keep trying, but I get it." He walked out of her office, leaving her longing after him. What was her problem? Things had been great with Jack. He made her laugh, there was tons of chemistry, the sex had been fantastic, and she'd always felt comfortable with him. Even when they weren't _together_ he was a great friend. She didn't know why she was so hesitant about starting their relationship again when her body was practically begging for it. They had started dancing around the subject about the time Booth had his surgery. Jack had made his feelings more than clear. Maybe she'd ask Sweets about it later. Of course she was months into his last piece of advice and it was still driving her crazy. She might not be able to take any more of Sweet's special brand of helping. Angela sighed and turned her attention to the skull. At least it was in tact and had no obvious signs of trauma. Angela found it easier to do her work objectively if she didn't have evidence of pain and suffering staring at her the entire time.

VVVVVV

Dr. Temperance Brennan gazed at the tissue markers Mr. Fischer had set up on John Doe 3973.

"The tissue depth around the mandible looks a little thin to me but otherwise you can send it over to Angela." Colin sighed dramatically and muttered something about never finding perfection in life. Brennan took this to be one of those times where a response wasn't required and returned her attention to her computer. Twenty-five new emails from just this morning, each demanding varying amounts of her attention. When they were working on a case, especially if it was high profile, she could get away with neglecting the more menial aspects of her work. No new cases had cropped up recently, an anomaly in itself considering the D.C. area's homicide statistics were growing every year. Of course, no new cases for the Jeffersonian didn't mean there was a sudden drop in homicides, simply that all the victims could be easily identified. For the last week they'd been going through boxes from limbo and identifying some of the staggering amounts of Jane and John Does. Brennan knew identifying the remains was important, all families had a right to the closure that she hoped she could provide. She always had a sense of satisfaction whenever they were able to identify the remains and find a next of kin. Brennan should know better than anyone the need for that closure, her own mother's remains had been waiting in limbo just a few years ago. Still, it was hard to feel that same sense of urgency and excitement that came when she was working an open homicide case. The entire team had to work quickly and efficiently, one mistake being the difference between catching the killer and the case going cold. Open cases often required her to accompany her partner to various places, her searching for evidence, Booth searching for that indefinable piece of the puzzle that would set him on the path the truth. Brennan smiled as she remembered their argument years ago as he tried to define what 'gut feeling' meant. It had been an incredibly frustrating conversation. She remembered scoffing at him, her blood hot under her skin. Years later, there was still zero scientific basis for hit 'gut feelings' but the quantifiable data continued to mount as his feelings often proved to be correct. It had been mystifying at first, how often Booth was right when he followed his instincts. Eventually Brennan became aware that his skill had nothing to do with abdominal organs but rather his uncanny ability to read minute clues in body language and facial expressions. In their years of working together Brennan liked to think some of his abilities had rubbed off on her. She grimaced. Well a _little_ bit anyway.

Paying little attention to the emails she scanned on her screen, Brennan groaned inwardly as her computer pinged- announcing that she had yet another email. She quickly recognized the sender though, and opened the message happily.

_Bones- Where are you? I'm buried in paperwork over here! Come dig me out and we'll grab lunch at the diner. –B_

_Booth,_

_You know perfectly well where I am considering you knew you could contact me through email. I'm beginning to see your point about technology; your email was the first (and only) correspondence I enjoyed reading all day. Angela, Sam, and I will be at the diner around 1pm. See you there?_

She left the signature blank as she always did. He called her Bones, which always made her feel wanted somehow, but calling herself Bones made her feel uncomfortable, as if she were asking for the extra connection. She couldn't sign it Temperance or Dr. Brennan because she was a little nervous that eventually he would begin to call her one of them. SO in the end she always left it blank, letting him infer as he wished. Her cell phone vibrated and she flipped it open.

_1pm is fine. check w/ang 2 make sure its ok?_

_We had girl's night last night. Testosterone is allowed at lunch. _Brennan had to wait a few minutes as Booth was no doubt fumbling with his phone. She finally became impatient and hit his number on speed dial. He picked it up on the first ring.

"I already told you to come what's the hold up? You love the diner."

"Well, I just want to make sure no one was planning to discuss any girl issues. You know, three women together, no men?" He paused, not able to elaborate further but knowing she was still confused, "Will you just run it by Ange and make me feel better?"

"Fine I still don't see what this is about but I'll go talk to her now." She flipped her phone closed without saying goodbye, slightly annoyed that a simple lunch was being so unnecessarily complicated. Angela was sketching the face of a Jane Doe Hodgins had delivered earlier that morning. Brennan was surprised when Angela looked up from her sketch as she approached. Usually she went so deep into her work Brennan had to call her name a few times to get her attention. A phenomenon Brennan could identify with.

"Sorry this is taking so long. My mojo is on the fritz today." She leaned back in her chair looking frustrated.

"Because of last night?" She'd left early but had heard from Hodgins that Sam and Angela had stayed quite late.

"No Sweetie, well.. partly yes- but no mostly it's Sweets."

"Sweets?" Brennan was surprised. Apparently there was discord all around her that she was unaware of.

"Well it's Sweets' experiment. Really it's Jack that's bothering me." _Ahh.. _That made slightly more sense.

"Hodgins is bothering you? I thought you two were getting along well recently. Really well."

"Getting along? Angela snorted ruefully. "Yea we're 'getting along' just fine. I don't know what my problem is." She chewed on her lower lip, "it's just that- it's… it's complicated." Brennan stared at her friend trying to come up with something to say that would ease her tension. She was definitely not the person to be having this conversation with. If it were anyone else she'd tell them to talk to Angela. She didn't even understand the problem. Angela wanted to be with Hodgins. Hodgins wanted to be with Angela. It was really very simple, they were the ones making it difficult. Apparently Brennan had been silently confused for too long because Angela shook her head as if to clear it. "Sorry Sweetie. What did you come in here for?"

"Booth wanted me to ask you if it was alright that he joined us for lunch. I told him it was fine but he insisted I ask you though I'm not really sure why."

Angela laughed, "Yea just tell Booth we'll try not to contaminate him with an estrogen-fest. His manhood is safe" Brennan narrowed her eyes and shook her head, but left without asking for clarification.

_Booth,_

_Angela says your manhood is impervious to an estrogen party?? I'll assume you understand this and will explain it to me later._

Booth grinned as he read the message. He could picture his partner's face clearly, her eyebrows drawn in exasperated confusion. Booth had to read the email twice before he could sort out the intent of Angela's message through Bones' garbled message. Got it- no need for girl talk, men were allowed. He checked for a signature, it had become a game he played with himself. She probably didn't even notice but she never signed her name when she emailed him or wrote him notes. As if she had complete confidence in his ability to recognize her thoughts as purely Bones'. And he always did. He admitted to himself that it was strange to find a sense of intimacy from a blank space. He'd earned that intimacy though, worked hard breaking through her walls when they became partners years ago. He'd also had to break down some of his own. She'd gone from a very professional 'Regards, Dr. Brennan' to 'Brennan' to nothing at all. Every time he read a message from her he glanced at the bottom first- just to reassure himself.

VVVVVVVVV

**R/R give me some motivation to type faster!!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Here's a short one- just a warning it does go into details of a body so if that kind of thing bugs you I'd skip this chapter!**

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"Bones! We've got a case! Let's go!" Booth barked drumming his hands on the door frame of her office.

"A case? Thank you god! I thought we'd be doing limbo cases all month!" Hodgins jumped up from the couch and Brennan glared at him for his outburst. He had the good sense to look sheepish. "I mean- it's tragic, of course. For the dead guy." Brennan was already halfway out the door, her own eager excitement propelling her forward.

"Do you know any specifics yet?"

Booth shook his head, "Just the location. A warehouse shut down a few years ago, Popular with the homeless and addicts looking for a place to stay."

"Abandoned warehouse? There's going to be a lot of rodent activity, which means the remains will probably be spread throughout a large area." She stopped walking and called back towards her office. "Hodgins I'd like you and Dr. Edison to accompany us to the site- there'll be an abundance of material to collect" Hodgins whooped happily and had his gear packed up and ready before she finished her sentence.

"Oh please let it be a messy one!" He grinned, blue eyes dancing from an exasperated Booth to a smirking Brennan. The partners turned and walked on ahead while Hodgins waited for Dr. Clark. They drove in separate cars, Brennan and Booth in the SUV and Hodgins and Clark in another. They would need a lot of room for equipment but in reality the separate cars was more out of habit than anything. They talked easily on the ride relieved to be working again.

"I'm telling you Bones, the pie today was something extra special, you should've taken a bite." Brennan grinned and rolled her eyes at the familiar banter.

"Well if they could someday make a pie without cooking the fruit inside maybe I would try a slice. Until then I'll stick to my salad and fries."

"You mean **my** fries. And raw fruit inside a pie doesn't sound like something I'd eat. I just don't understand your cooked fruit hang up."

"It's just too… mushy." She squinched her face in distaste.

"World renowned forensic anthropologist and all you can come up with is 'mushy'." His eyebrows climbed his forehead in mock disbelief.

"It's an accurate descriptor Booth! I really don't see why this is so important to you."

"Hey", He reached over and grabbed her hand from her lap, "I just don't like it when you miss out on things. And believe me. You're missing out." He smirked and locked his eyes with hers. Heat crept up the back of her neck and she pulled her hand from his, looking away.

"We'll miss out on more than pie if you don't watch the road." Booth feigned offense.

"I have the senses of an extensively trained special agent of the FBI!" He looked her in the eyes again, "You should know by now I would never do anything that would hurt you Bones." He tried to force his tone to sound light. Brennan shifted uncomfortably in her seat, wondering if they were somehow talking about two different things. She searched for a change of subject.

"Sam was pretty quiet at lunch today- I guess she's still tired from last night." Booth was silent for a moment. Brennan became apprehensive that he wasn't going to allow the change of subject.

"I don't know if it's just last night. She's been kind of quiet for the last week or so."

"Do you think something's wrong?" Brennan furrowed her brow. She considered Sam to be a friend, they'd gotten to know each other through Angela and her father, both of whom had decided to take the girl under their respective wings. Whenever her father spoke of Sam his facial expression changed. She couldn't quite interpret the meaning behind it, but she knew her father well enough to know that he had a soft spot for the girl. For all her father's faults he was an excellent judge of character.

"I figured it was because the holidays are coming up, she never talks about family. Maybe she doesn't have any around. That can make for a crappy holiday." Brennan wondered if he'd be getting Parker for Christmas this year, he was always moody when he knew he wouldn't see him for the holidays.

"Or maybe she doesn't want to contact the ones she has." Booth muttered something about the land of misfit toys which Brennan ignored.

"Maybe we should do something for the holidays, ya know, bring a little cheer."

"Something like what exactly?" She asked warily.

"I don't know, something Christmassy. Egg nog, santa hats, presents… the whole nine."

"Why specifically nine? There's more people would could invite from the lab."

"Nine yards Bones- like the whole enchilada, the whole shebang."

"I don't know what that means." Booth was saved from explaining further as they pulled up to the warehouse.

They parked between two police cars at the scene. She glanced around at all the official looking vehicles. _There's more cars than usual- that can't be good._ The uneasy feeling gathered weight in her stomach as she collected her kit from the trunk. She walked toward the warehouse not waiting for Hodgins and Clark as they pulled up behind her. Scenes were never especially jovial but cops could usually be seen milling around talking, laughing, and drinking their coffee.. There was none of that today. There was an Officer Balian standing outside the warehouse looking pale with a thin sheen of sweat covering his face. He wiped at his mouth and avoided her eyes sheepishly. Vomiting was common among officers, especially new ones and especially around badly decomposed bodies. _He should have breathed from his mouth._

She stepped through one of the doors and into the eerily quiet warehouse. Men were gathered on the open upper levels, carefully looking in every direction but one. Brennan had seen many bodies in various stages of decomposition- but there were two things that always made cops go quiet- it was either someone they knew or a it was child. It was a cold December but not nearly enough to freeze a body. She could already smell a hint of decomposition in the air. She prepared herself, breathing deeply through her nose as she inhaled the last bit of fresh air. Behind her she heard Hodgins and Clark step into the building, Hodgins more subdued than he'd been at the lab. He sensed it too.

Even though she was now breathing through her mouth, the air felt thicker on the second floor. She didn't have to ask where the body was, though it was hidden behind a pile of discarded steel. Flies swarmed in a pulsing cloud and there was evidence of rodent activity. Actually she glimpsed an especially large one scurrying away with something dangling from it's jaws. A red and white high top sneaker lay on its side about three feet from the rubble. Her heart constricted as she struggled to keep her face passive. Nobody likes it when the body experts looked disturbed. Even if it was a child. She rounded the pile of steel and took in the condition of the body. Short stature, small proportionate limbs- most likely a child, though without a closer look she couldn't be sure it wasn't a small adult. Genetic anomalies were rare, but did occur.

"Hodgins, can you get someone to round up the rats? They've ingested evidence." Hodgins went straight to his task as Clark looked relieved not to be included in the rodent roundup. She turned her attention back to the body. Much of the boy's facial features were missing, a facial reconstruction was going to be extremely difficult. She couldn't see from her position but hopefully there were enough teeth to help with a dental identification, if the boy had been to a dentist. _Boy_. She hadn't consciously realized she'd determined the gender but as she peered at the pelvic area, bones protruded from the stripped away flesh. She saw a distinctive 'V' shape and was comfortable identifying the body as a male.

"So whaddya think Bones? Is it a kid?" Booth needed to know. She knew that but there was just enough skin covering the skeletal structure to hamper an age estimate. She knelt next to the boy and peered at his scapula. Here, rodents had eaten enough of the flesh for her to see that the bones hadn't yet fused completely.

"The shoulder area suggests a prepubescent male, aged ten to fifteen." The youngest victim she'd worked in a while. Booth cursed under his breath.

"Any obvious cause of death?" Brennan gazed searchingly into the hollow of the boy's cranium. _Only a few teeth, not enough for a dental_. She did however, see tiny copper like pellets scattered throughout the cavity. There was brain matter and bits of skull on the floor a few feet behind the boy's head.

"Looks like he was shot in the head close range with a shotgun. Did anyone find a weapon?"

"No, no weapon was found in the area so far but they're still looking. They did find a kid's backpack though. Hopefully there'll be something inside to help with an ID."

"Facial reconstruction will be difficult in this case. Even if we do manage to put enough of the skull back together the facial structures have been mostly pulverized." She stood up and called to Clark who was conferring with the team from the crime lab, "Dr. Edison would you please oversee the removal of the body as well as any other particulates or bone fragments that are found? Have everything sent to the Jeffersonian." She looked at Booth for confirmation that they were ready to leave. His impressions of the crime scene often proved to be almost as important as the evidence they collected. He was staring down at the body, fury darkening his brown eyes.

This was going to be a long case.


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the next chapter, lil of this, lil of that...**

**Disclaimer: you all know the drill. not mine**

**Please review! I welcome any ideas you have and would be interested to know how you think this will all play out...**

**And now on with the show!!**

**VVVVVVVVVVv**

The ride back from the warehouse was much quieter than the ride in. Each of the partners were lost in thought, trying to focus on their next steps, the work that had to come and not on how short the boy's life had been.

"Do you want me to drop you at the lab?" Booth's voice broke into her reverie.

"No. Dr. Saroyan will want to a look at the tissue before I can clean the body enough to look at the bones. Dr. Edison can start gathering data as she's working and I'll take over when she's finished." She felt the need to be actively doing something about the case but for the moment there was nothing for her to do. It was frustrating to say the least and it was making her anxious. She needed to refocus her energies for the time being. "Want to go for dinner? Maybe some Chinese?"

"Yeah, I can't do anything tonight either. Gotta wait for something from the squint squad before I can do a damn thing." His hands tightened visibly around the steering wheel. Brennan glanced at him, knowing exactly how he was feeling. "Let's grab some to go and head to my place. I could use a beer."

"They'll work as fast as they can Booth. We'll be able to do something productive tomorrow."

"Yeah I know. It's just- it's a kid, Bones." They looked away from each other and lapsed into silence.

Booth double parked and ran into the Chinese restaurant while Brennan waited in the car. Their usual order came in a large brown paper bag that he passed off to her as he slid back behind the wheel a few minutes later. He resolutely pushed all thoughts of the case out of his head, or at least he tried.

"So when do you think we should have the party? Not too close to the holidays or people will have plans already." Brennan glanced at him, confused for a moment, but realized he was trying to compartmentalize. She had considered him for too long and Booth took her silence as a sign of reluctance. He turned to her, voice rising. "You're not going to some hole in the ground country where you'll be up to your neck in corpses again this Christmas."

"I decided it would be pointless to plan a trip over the holidays. I've had to cancel them at the last minute for the last three years. **You** usually find some inescapable reason why I need to stay and be with family." Bones grinned and his eyes went wide in mock amazement.

"Bones! I finally got through to you! This is fantastic! This Christmas is going to seal the deal. Family, friends, presents… I'll make you into a Christmas lover yet!" He practically wiggled in his seat. Brennan couldn't help but get wrapped up in his excitement and allowed herself to grin back at him.

"Russ and Amy are having us over to celebrate around the 30th, Max and I are going to drive down together. I need to get something for the girls but I have no idea what girls their age enjoy. Russ is no help, he just keeps saying that anything I get will be fine."

"Anything you get **will** be fine. You're their Auntie Bones." She laughed and unhooked her seatbelt as they pulled into his parking garage.

"I doubt they'll start calling me Auntie Bones. I don't think Amy would comfortable explaining to the girls why you call me that, though I don't really understand the hesitation most adults feel when discussing death with children; it's a natural part of the life cycle." He smirked as she paused and thought logically through his offhand remark. "Besides I like that it's your moniker for me. Like Hank calling you shrimp." Booth froze halfway out his car door. He knew she'd stopped being offended by her nickname years ago and he'd suspected that she accepted or even enjoyed it but she'd never admitted it out loud. He didn't want to make a big deal out of a passing comment so he kept quiet even as a warmth spread across his chest. _Everything happens eventually._

Brennan was now far ahead of him, oblivious to his string of thoughts. He jogged and caught up with her, opening the door for her and silencing her subsequent remarks with a look. Once inside they spread out in their now familiar custom. Booth laying out the food on the coffee table, his on the right, hers on the left, and whatever they both picked at in the middle. Brennan went to kitchen to get the beer, plates, and utensils. Each moved with the certain fluidness that came from many nights together after hard cases. Or easy cases. Or no cases. Booth sank into the couch and smiled softly as he watched her move assuredly around his kitchen. He tried to grasp the exact point in their relationship when spending time together outside of work became a habit. It had come along so quietly that he hadn't even noticed. He wasn't even sure she consciously realized the long ago shift from eating over open case files and discussing their next move, to just being each other's company. If she'd been aware of the change he doubted it would've happened so smoothly. He grinned at her while she walked towards him drinks in hand. _Sometimes you have to sneak one by and let the subconscious do the thinking._ She tilted her head smiled back at him, eyes twinkling.

"What?"

"Nothing Bones. I'm starving, let's eat."

"So Jack do you have anything to help me narrow down my search? You have no idea how many missing brunette 10-15 year old males there are. It's depressing." Angela stood in front of his workstation leaning her elbow on some shelving. He had to concentrate so that he looked into her eyes and not her mouth. God she could be distracting... And he could really use a distraction right about now. She continued talking, oblivious, "I can't even narrow it down by eye color! I **really** hate rats." She shivered dramatically as he grimaced. He was used to all things gross- prided himself, and thoroughly enjoyed, being the guy who dealt with the nastiest, raunchiest evidence. He was well aware of the damage hungry animals could inflict on a corpse. This case though, this case made it seem personal. Like the rats stripped away the kid's identity. The images stayed with him- he saw them whenever he closed his eyes and he'd had a ball of revulsion and anger in the pit of his stomach since he'd seen the body. What really got to him though was knowing that he would get no reprieve, even in sleep. Every time a case got to him, every time he felt like this, he would inevitably dream about being trapped in an enclosed space. Usually underground, although that detail varied somewhat. What remained consistent was the overwhelming sense of panic he felt, even after he woke drenched in sweat and in his own bed. Really he'd probably be better off just working through the night and he would, if he had anything to work with. All the evidence they'd collected thus far was so frustratingly **generic**. Inside the book bag he'd expected (or at least hoped) to find books with a conveniently written name on the inside jacket. Instead he found the riches of a little boy. An Eagles football, a three inch broken piece of extremely common rock, a well worn composition book, and a cell phone covered in Eagles stickers. His clothes were all mass produced K-Mart brands, found in every city across the country. Nothing about this kid set him apart from every other kid in the United States. Except he was dead.

"I couldn't come up with much from his backpack. Everything's pretty run of the mill and nonspecific. The kid had a thing for the Eagles so I'd bet he lived around Pennsylvania but I wouldn't eliminate any candidates because of it." He picked up the composition book and handed it to Angela. She flipped through it as he continued talking. "This looks fairly old and it's full of writing. I scanned through it quickly and it looks like two people writing back and forth. I didn't see any names that popped out, but I figured you'd be interested in reading it. Maybe they talk about a specific event or location that could help narrow the field."

"Great! I'd actually love to read this. I'll bet there's something in here to help ID him. Thanks." She was quiet for a moment, gazing at the book. "I hate that they can't reconstruct the skull enough for me to give him face. He should have a face Jack." Her brown eyes gazed down at him, shining with emotion. He stood and took her hand in his.

"You'll find out who he is and who he belongs to Ange, I know you will. It just might take some time." He locked his eyes with hers and leaned his head forward, letting her see the truth behind his words. She nodded, accepting his comfort. "I know how you feel though, I would kill for minute traces of something spectacularly rare right about now. At least something to narrow it down! This kid could be from anywhere!" He dropped her hands so his were free to gesture towards the useless evidence.

"Well you just went from positive thinker to depressing and pessimistic in three seconds flat. Must be a new record." They grinned at each other, both feeling a little less weighed down by the case.

"Before I forget Cam wants you to work your magic on that cell phone- see what you can get from it."

Confused she asked, "Can't Booth trace it to the owner?"

"Apparently it's the prepaid kind so there are no records of an owner. They checked the calls and there was only one number, always outgoing."

Angela sighed in frustration, "Let me guess, they can't trace that number either? Of course not, that would be too easy. Booth must be going crazy."

"Yeah I saw him earlier, he's wound pretty tight. It looks like he's just waiting for something or some**one** to pounce on."

"Aren't we all." Angela avoided his startled glance and walked back to her office with an extra sway to her hips, leaving Hodgins staring after her. She thought about what the boy kept in his bag- she was sure that everything inside was special to him, held some kind of meaning. It was funny the way people could grow attached to seemingly insignificant things. She remembered treasuring a twig for months when she was younger because she was convinced it was actually a wand that would one day reveal its magic to her. She also used to carry one of her father's guitar picks with her everywhere she went, she thought he could feel her holding it wherever he was in the world. When she was a teenager she'd punched a hole in it and made it into a necklace.

The cell phone was fairly straightforward, all kids love cell phones and this seemed to keep him connected to someone special to him. What made the stone so valuable?

Sitting at her desk she eyed the objects in front of her. Getting anything from the cell phone was a long shot and honestly, she was feeling the need to back off technology and it's cold hard facts. She wanted to do something more ephemeral. Connect with something real; something to give her a sense of the boy and the person he'd been. She picked up the worn composition book and settled into the easy chair in the corner of her office, gazing at the front cover. It was filled with doodles, some random and mindless, others more deliberate pictures. The Eagles insignia had been painstakingly drawn in pencil and traced over in pen. The kid had obviously taken great care in the drawing. He'd also drawn a couple of wolves in the upper right corner; one picture of just the head of the wolf head and another of it running and in mid stride. _Maybe it was a school mascot._ She made a mental note to check out school mascots later, maybe she'd get lucky.

She ran her fingers over the front cover before she opened to the first page.

_I told you I'd get you a new one soon! And you doubted me! __How's school going? Any better? I know you said some of the kids were being jackasses- but just remember what I said ok? We've gotta be careful from now on… HEY! Is she letting you join football? Bet you could be the QB this year, you've been practicing enough. Since she's never gonna show up to your games maybe I can come watch, let me know buckeroh! Love Love_

No names, no specific information, written in what appeared to be a run of the mill ball point pen. She was hopeful about the football team, maybe he'd mention a name or a schedule that she could compare to teams in the state. She scanned down the rest of the page, the next entry obviously written by someone younger. Doodles were scribbled in the margins in pen, this next entry was in pencil, so it was a safe bet the boy hadn't been the doodler. For some reason she couldn't pinpoint she stared for a long while at the little scribbles. They weren't even really pictures, but there was something about them- something that felt just beyond her. After a few more minutes with no light bulb moments she let out an exasperated sigh and continued reading.

_Im rollin my eyes u! no I cant play football 2 much $. Im pissed. Skool sux. No football. Ur gone. Can u come back yet? Maybe u can live here with us. Then u woodnt have to work in that place. Don't lie to me. I know where u work. I promiss im not mad just come here and u can quit ok?? Or I can come with u its been long enuf right? Id help u and id do my homework and id be good. Please?_

_Hey. Listen to me. This is __not__ your fault. I chose this. Not because I don't want to see you or because I don't love you. That's bullshit- don't even think it. As for my job I'm only going to work there for a little while, until I get enough money to rent a place of my own. Someday I'll have a job you can be proud of, but for right now this is how it has to be. The people there are really nice. They look out for me and help me out when I need it. Okay? Now for the lecture… (you knew this was coming- don't you dare stop reading) You __**CANNOT**__ be following me. You know we can't be seen together right now. We have to be careful or everything will fall apart. We talked about this right? This is the hard part. It's gonna suck for a while, maybe a long time- but I promise it'll be worth it in the end. I promise. __Love love _

What had this kid been mixed up in? Everything was vague enough that she couldn't get a clear picture. She had to wonder if they were purposely leaving out detailed information in case the book was ever read. Seemed like a fairly paranoid thing for a kid to do. Who was this other person? Obviously someone he wasn't supposed to be talking to, why else could they not be seen together? Her heart sank as an idea floated into her consciousness. Had he been a victim of a pedophile? Had this been an adult grooming him? Convincing him to trust him and leave his family? The handwriting seemed feminine but of course that didn't rule out pedophilia. Was he killed because someone grew tired or him, or did he get too old? This line of questioning was only sickening her further and doing nothing productive. This angle also didn't quite mesh with the woman's need for the boy to look up to her, respect her choices in careers. Angela reluctantly scribbled '_pedophile??'_ on a post-it and resolutely kept reading. The next few entries had much of the same things- non specific information, nothing detailed, just enough of a conversation to keep a connection going. Something about a quarter of the way through the book caught Angela's eye and made her heart race. The margins were filled with drawings of balloons and confetti. Sending up a quick prayer to whoever might be listening, she read on.

_HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! I know you won't get this until afterwards but I want you to know I'm thinking o__f you. 11's a lucky number did you know that? Great things are gonna happen this year for you. __I can't believe you'll be a teenager soon! What's next? Girlfriends?? Lol. Please tell me you still think they have cooties. Do you remember when I made you eat those mud brownies? They must've tasted awful but you were so sweet because you thought I'd really baked them for you. You ate the whole thing! I __still__ feel guilty about that you little worm. Of course now you're older and wiser and I don't think I could trick you if I tried. I hope today you know I'm thinking of you even though I can't be there. I hope you know how proud I am of you. I know they're proud too. I love you. Happy Birthday. __Love love _

Angela's eyes pricked with emotion. In her eyes this person wasn't a suspect, she'd obviously loved him deeply. Her heart ached for the writers but she was thrilled to finally have something to go on. Granted it wasn't an actual age since this could have been written years ago, but at least she could narrow down her focus. The mud brownies were strangely helpful too. That kind of stuff was for siblings, maybe a cousin or a close friend, but definitely not a pedophile. She crossed that off the post-it happily but paused trying to imagine scenarios where siblings might have to hide their relationship. One got thrown out? Into drugs? She seemed awfully caring and responsible for someone whacked out on drugs. Angela's mind flew in twenty different directions, none of which made any sense. She sighed and closed the book having made a decision. She was going to copy the journal and send it to Sweets so they could go over it together and compare notes. She could just let him handle it but she didn't want to let it go. In a weird way she felt like she would be abandoning him. Of course it's what she'd been looking for, a deeper connection or sense of the boy. Well she got it, and now she was in it for the long run.

**Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it! I have some vacation time soon so I will hopefully be able to post faster, though I find if I'm properly motivated the ideas flow better! Look how close you are to the comments button!!! ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Again... just playing, nothing's mine**

Max glanced around the food court looking for his partner in crime. One of the guards had seen her slip by his station headed in this direction. It's always good to make friends with the right people, especially the ones that are paid to know everything that goes on in the building. He spotted her in the corner, sitting next to a cluster of plastic trees. Her head leaned on her left hand as she stared at her salad, not even pretending to eat it. He called out her name several times with no reaction. Finally he skirted around the trees and came up behind her, lightly placing his hand in between her shoulders, causing her to jump forward alarmed.

"Sam! Sorry honey I didn't mean to scare you" He put up his hands in a defensive gesture, "I tried calling your name I swear." Sam's ears went red and she shrugged, looking sheepish.

"Sorry I guess I was a little wrapped up in a daydream." She gestured to the open seat opposite her and leaned back in her chair. "What's up? Did you want to go over this week's activities?" She took a renewed interest in her salad, or at least in poking around in it as if she were searching for a specific piece of lettuce.

Max sighed. "No I don't want to talk about lesson plans. I want to know what's going on with you." Sam looked up from her salad and locked her eyes with his genuinely confused.

"Nothing's going on with me. What do you mean?"

"Well you've been walking around in a fog lately. I don't want to push, it's just that usually you tell me these things and I want to make sure everything's all right with you." He reached across the table, resting his hands on hers. She stared at their hands entwined on the table for a moment, her eyes filling with tears. She pulled her hands away from his to wipe quickly at the tears trailing down her cheeks. "Sam please talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about that's what's so embarrassing. I'm just run down. I can't sleep even though I'm tired all the time. My classes are so demanding this semester and between that and my two jobs I'm just… tired." She closed her eyes and exhaled trying to steady herself. "I can't seem to keep up with everything right now. Max listened closely to her outburst and was silent for a moment.

"So you're feeling a little overwhelmed?" Sam snorted and nodded her head. "And you decided to drown your sorrows in a salad. With no dressing. Has no one ever taught you the healing magic known as comfort food? Ice cream? Disgustingly greasy food? C'mon let's say you trash that rabbit food and I treat you to lunch." She opened her mouth to protest when her stomach let out a perfectly timed growl. "That settles it. Let's go." Before she could say anything he threw out her salad and pulled her to her feet. "I know the perfect place."

Sam was so quiet in the car he'd thought she'd fallen asleep, which, given her exhaustion would've been a good thing. But she just stared out the window, faced turned away from him. He cleared his throat to give her a warning of impending actual conversation.

"Have you spoken to Angela or Tempe lately?"

She shook her head, "I haven't had much time lately. I haven't seen them since we went to lunch last week. I've been meaning to do something with Angela as a thank you for helping me with my computer project, but I haven't been able to pull anything together yet."

"It's just as well. Every time I pop my head over there lately I feel like someone's liable to bite it off. I guess whatever case they're working on isn't going well. Seems like it's shaping up to be a long one." Sam nodded her head thoughtfully, catching his meaning.

"So what's the plan boss? Do we intervene and take their minds off the case or do we give them space? What's your game plan oh Wise One?" She bowed to him from her seat, looking up at him through her bangs and laughed. Max grinned. _There's my girl_.

"Okay smartass. I **do** actually have a few thoughts-"

"Of course you do. C'mon spill. I know you're dying to."

"Well now that you've asked… It's still fairly early in the case so for now we can just back off and let them do their thing. But if they're still living in the lab by the time our little holiday get together comes around, drastic measures will be taken."

Sam grinned mischievously, "Drastic measures like spiking the punch with lots and lots of alcohol?"

"For a start, yes."

"I can definitely deal with that. I think though that I'll go check in on them after my finals. Make sure everyone's eating and sleeping enough that they don't pass out on the platform. Ange wanted to see my finished project anyway, so I've got a good excuse." Max turned his head to consider the girl for a second before speaking. He knew her type, hell he'd married her type, his daughter was her type; all strength and stoicism. He wasn't falling for the overwhelmed line for a second, but he decided his best approach was to go about it the long way around rather than head on.

"Being stressed in college is nothing to be ashamed of you know. It's practically a rite of passage!" She turned to look at him again.

"I know, sorry for going off on you about it. Especially after you're practically been my personal tutor all semester."

"What can I say? I'm a born teacher. I'm just glad your semester's almost over. Don't even think about taking 24 credits again next semester. I'm stressed out just looking at you."

Sam laughed and shook her head. "Yeah I kind of slipped that by the University. Not sure if it'll work a second time. I am going to take 21 credits though, I want to get done as much as I can."

"What's your hurry? You should take your time, enjoy college."

"Don't you ever feel like you just have to **do** something? I feel like my whole life is in limbo, just waiting for me to start living it." Max shook his head and sighed in mock exasperation.

"Kids today. You don't know how to just enjoy life. You all have to rush everything."

She looked at him sharply. "I'm twenty years old- I'm not a child."

"Honey, you're less than half my age, to me you're a kid." He took his eyes off the road to wink at her, show her he was messing with her but the look on her face stopped him cold. She turned away from him and back towards the window, whispering so softly he almost didn't hear her.

"I haven't been a kid for a long time."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_Hey! Can't wait to see you this week! I've got some surprises lined up for you. First I'm gonna need some major sucking up so be prepared to grovel when you see me. __Can't get anything for free in life, might as well learn that now. I've found another way to keep in touch (along with this not instead of- don't get your hopes up) AND I've got a new job. It's not fantastic but it's something I can actually write on applications. I'm also signing up to take some classes- I'll explain everything to you when I see you. But things are moving now, it won't be forever. Just got to hold out until that magical number… it's getting closer everyday._

_So let me slip into my paranoid lecture mode for a second. It'll be quick I promise. You've got money and directions? You've got a story lined up to get away and in case you get caught somewhere along the way? I liked your camping with friends idea- means no one can try and call you to check in. I've taught you well! See you soon little bugger. Love love. Ps if you space out and forget I'll beat the crap out of you. Then I'll make you eat dirt. __you know you love me!!_

Angela looked at the page for a long while after she'd finished reading. She looked at each doodle, trying to find some kind of pattern or symbol within them that would lead her somewhere relevant. Usually when she doodled it would relate to whatever she happened to be thinking about at the time. She would look down after a while and see someone's name sketched on the page, or a picture depicting some recent event. These doodles were often just small things. Swirls, stick figure people, houses, shaded shapes; nothing at all that she could relate to actual information. Finally she flipped a few pages ahead and started to read once again.

_It's storming out tonight. The trees outside my apartment are banging on the windows and keeping me awake. By my very accurate and scientific count the storm is two Mississippi miles away I'm so glad to be living somewhere with four walls and a roof and not out in this tonight. I'm sitting here, safe in bed, hoping that it's exactly where you are. I hope someone's with you, I know how much you hate thunderstorms. As much as you hate them, I think they're amazing. Calm quiet breezes pick up and turn into fierce destructive winds. Warm and cold air mix, turning from something invisible to a huge bolt of electricity (or ok whatever makes lightening. You're the science geek) and thunder screams in behind it. It's kind of like mother nature gets tired of laying back and taking whatever comes at her, tired of hiding her power. Sometimes you just gotta let it loose ya know? Anyway, they remind me of when I would read to you under the blankets to distract you. Remember the Power Rangers flashlight? Seems like a very long time ago tonight._

_Ok!! I just read over that. Good god. Word of the day is Melancholoy. Look it up. Never too late to stretch your vocab muscles. Miss you. I love you. Love love_

_Melancholy:_ _feeling or making somebody feel a thoughtful or gentle sadness. Happy?? You spelled it wrong. I get enough hw at school ya know. That night BTW I was at my friend's house having a sleepover. We stayed up and told ghost stories. Everybody said mine was the best- I thought this one kid was gonna cry!!_

_I saw a dog this week that looked like Bosco. Do you think he got adopted yet? I hope his new family has a huge yard for him. I think he was the fastest dog in the world!! Do you think he wonders where we all went? I wish we could go visit him so he doesn't think I forgot him. He's such a good –_

Angela had to close the book. _This kid was murdered and I'm getting all emotional because he missed his dog? God I am so fried right now._ She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Deciding it was way past time for a break she tried to call Brennan to grab some lunch. She answered the phone but was already out with Booth and probably wouldn't be back the rest of the day; or at least the rest of the 'normal' working day. Everyone was putting in ridiculous hours on this case. They all looked exhausted, dark rings kept most of them looking like they'd been beaten. They couldn't keep up this pace much longer but the case was still going nowhere and the level of frustration was at a dangerous high. They were all snipping at each other in place of normal conversation and raised voices in the corridors had become commonplace. She really needed to blow off some steam. God, the last time she'd gone out was more than three weeks ago! She realized with a flash of guilt that Sam's finals were probably over now- she'd promised to help her study for them. Sam hadn't called so she'd probably heard they were in the middle of a case. She wasn't sure if Sam was working at the university today so she played it safe and text her instead of calling. Didn't want to get her in trouble with her boss.

_hey sami! Could use a break.. how about you? _She barely put down her phone when it alerted her to an answer.

_Sounds great. Meet u there in 15_

Angela always appreciated how easy going Sam was. The whole time she'd been wrapped up in her work there were no pestering phone calls, no annoyed emails wondering where Angela had disappeared to. Sam seemed to know her personality well enough to know when to back off and when to swoop in. It was nice to have someone in her life she didn't have to work for. As deeply as she loved Brennan, it was nice to be understood automatically. No explanations necessary.

She glanced at the journal on her desk. She had fifteen minutes before Sam came to pick her up. _No. This is getting obsessive. I've read through the whole thing dozens of times. What I need now is some space- miles of it._ She shoved the journal under some paperwork and decided that her time was better spent checking the emails that had been piling up lately. Anything that hadn't been marked 'urgent' had been held off for some later date, which apparently was today.

There were about a dozen potential match alerts from a dating service but she didn't even pause to consider them. A flash of irritation shot through her as she deleted each one without opening it. _As if I would spend my time on any of this right now_. Logically in the back of her mind she knew the men had no idea what was happening around her. But that was logical and she was busy running on emotion. The past couple weeks she'd worked so hard to push her feelings to the side, to focus on the tangible things. They were what would put a face on the boy. Usually throughout a case she let herself feel whatever she needed to… pain, disgust, anger- the whole nasty gambit. She'd made a mistake on this case reading the composition book. She became thoroughly enwrapped in this kid's life. She was afraid she had become too emotional, afraid she'd miss some small detail because her mind was preoccupied. So she'd taken a note from Brennan and built a wall. But as days had turned to weeks Angela could feel the walls she'd built around the case start to crumble. She needed a place to direct everything or it was all just going to burst.

Angela was pulled from her thoughts by Sam snorting from the doorway.

"What exactly did your computer do to get you so pissed off?" Relieved at the promise of distraction Ange grinned and grabbed her purse and jacket.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just checking emails like a normal person."

"You were muttering at the monitor with your face all scrunched up and you were practically beating your mouse into submission. It doesn't click any faster when you do it forcefully you know." Angela was about to make a smart ass reply of her own when she got her first good look at Sam.

"Hey! Exactly how many all night cram sessions did you pull? You look awful!" Her eyes looked black and hallowed out, made more shocking by her pale face. Angela would swear she'd also lost some weight.

"Well thanks Ange! You don't look so hot yourself. If we found a mirror we could vote on who looks the shittiest. 'Course we'd have to invite the whole rest of the lab in on it. I just passed Hodgins and the man hasn't seen a razor in days."

"Okay, you've got me there. But seriously you shouldn't have to work this hard in college."

"And you shouldn't have to live in the lab for a case. We both suck." She pulled on Ange's arm, yanking her out of the office. "Now let's go before I die of starvation."

Angela laughed as she allowed herself to be pulled through the lab. As they passed the platform Angela realized that she hadn't seen much of Jack in the last few days. They were both constantly in the lab but their paths seemed not to cross. She should really see if he was up for a break as well.

"Hey Sami hold on a sec." Sam stopped tugging and gave her an exasperated look. "Let's go drag Hodgins out to lunch with us. He should be right there at his station." Sam's eyes lit up when she heard Jack's name, just like she knew they would. Sam thought Jack was hilarious and whenever they all went out together she'd drop not-so-subtle hints about Angela and him getting back together. When the two flirted, which she had to admit, was fairly often, Sam's eyes would go wide and she would grin like it was Christmas morning. Even though Sam was plotting and messing in her life, Ange couldn't help but think it was kind of adorable. She motioned for Sam to follow her up the platform stairs after swiping her card.

"There isn't a rotting corpse up there is there? I want to be able to enjoy the food I eat." Angela glanced at the stark metal tables. Empty.

"Nope, all clear. I think they're doing some more tests on the bones or something."

"Whatever, as long as I don't have to see something oozy and disgusting." She quickly bounded up the stairs to Angela and followed close behind her to Jack's station. He wasn't so much working as he was staring accusingly at the items spread out on his table: a red and white high top sneaker, piece of rock, cell phone, and a football. Johnny Doe's evidence. Sam stayed behind Angela, letting her take the lead.

"Hey Jack." She waited for his bleary eyes to focus on her, "We're going to grab something to ear. You should come- get some fresh air." She could practically see his brain trying to switch gears from 'science mode' to 'socializing mode'.

"Who's we?" Sam stepped out from behind Angela, feeling slightly foolish for having hid there in the first place. She tried to grin at him but because she was feeling awkward, it looked more like a grimace. He tried to smile to reassure her, but it felt stiff on his face.

"I'm not really up to an outing right now. I don't know when I last showered, let alone rolled on some deodorant. I'm feeling pretty ripe at the moment." Angela was about to launch into a lecture about detachment and mandatory breaks when she heard Sam let out a strangled cry. Alarmed she and Hodgins reached for her just as Sam's knees buckled. Jack grabbed her around the waist as Angela grasped her arms. Sam's face went white and she couldn't seem to catch enough air.

"Sweetie! What's wrong? Are you okay?" They guided the unresponsive girl to a chair and sat her down. "Here put your head between your legs. You look like you're going to pass out." Sam obediently brought her head down, her hands reaching behind her head and clenching her hair in fists. Silently, she stayed in the position for almost a minute before righting herself. Her eyes were glassy and her pale face was spotted with red blotches.

"Blek. Sorry about that, I just felt really woozy for a second there." She tried weakly to smile. "I should probably skip lunch and head home to get some sleep." Angela knelt down next to her to feel her forehead.

"You don't have a fever, but you really don't look good honey. Jack help me get her to the car and I'll drive her home." Sam was shaking her head no before she'd even finished the sentence.

"Really Ange I'm fine, thank you. I'll just take a cab."

"There is no way I'm letting you go home by yourself. You don't even look like you could make it out of the lab by yourself." Sam attempted to get out of the chair but sat back down when Hodgins protested and Angela shoved her, none too gently, back into the chair. "Don't even think about it."

"Okay okay I won't go by myself. Can you just call Max? He's taken me home before so he knows where it is." Angela narrowed her eyes at her. "Look, you can watch me get into the car with him okay? I'm not going to run off on you." Angela looked at her for a moment longer and then pulled out her phone to call Max. Relieved Sam slouched back in the chair. Max agreed right away, obviously concerned, and said he'd be there in a few minutes to get her. Jack walked over to Angela and stood with their arms touching, neither of them saying a word. Sam just sat in the chair staring vacantly at the floor, face completely devoid of expression.

**A/N: bit of a filler I know, but it had to be done. I'm hoping to crank out another chapter within the next few days.. hope you enjoy!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N.. I couldn't sleep so I banged this sucker out.. My usual editing buddy was busy so I apologize for anything that slipped past me. Hope you enjoy! Let me know your thoughts!**

**Disclaimer.. still own nada**

"Brennan are you even listening to me?" Angela stood directly in front of Brennan's desk. "Paging Dr. Brennan." Still no response. Instead of getting annoyed Angela grinned mischievously and began to walk away slowly. "Well then I guess I'll have to tell Booth I'll go on that date with him. He **is **pretty yummy, I bet he'd even let me bite him a little." Now Brennan's eyes snapped to her friend's retreating back.

"Wait Ange- what?"

"Oh Sweetie, hello so nice to see you. I was just talking about our holiday party." She smiled innocently and made her way back to Brennan's desk, who was clearly trying to process what she'd heard.

"What were you saying about Booth?"

"Just that the party was originally his idea but now I think we'll have to convince him to go."

"Ange I really don't think that any of us are in a very festive mood right now."

"Well you've got an entire day to work up your jollies. Don't give me that look you know what I mean. A few hours won't kill you or this case. Johnny Doe will be here when we get back. I need this Brennan. We all do." Brennan pressed her lips together, tilting her head to the side as she studied her friend. Angela was always ready for any excuse to party, this shouldn't have been any different, but there was something desperate about her expression. Brennan's face softened and she accepted her friend's request. Angela's shoulders dropped slightly as the tension drained out of her body.

"Okay now we just have to convince everyone else to come. Easy right?" Her eyes were so hopeful that Brennan found herself nodding automatically. "You get Booth, Sweets, Daisy and Hodgins while I go after Cam, Max, Sam and the interns."

"Wait why are you getting Max and I'm getting Hodgins? Max is my father and Hodgins is… was your whatever he is, or was…"

"Well I already talked to your dad and if I tried to talk to Hodgins he would think I was being overprotective or something. You can make a party seem completely logical and necessary."

"But I don't think a party is completely logical and necessary." Angela bent down so she was at eye level with her friend.

"It is honey. Trust me." Brennan nodded, trusting Ange's assessment. Sometimes she found it easier to just defer to Angela than to try and understand her reasoning.

"Great! Let's get started! Lots to do- decorations to buy, people to coerce."

Booth loosened his tie as he waited for the gate to open onto Hodgins' property. He'd been here only a few times and still had trouble picturing the paranoid fuzzy headed man living there. He drove his SUV slowly up the driveway, past the massive garage and tennis courts and up to the main house. In his opinion, anyone who had to call where they lived the 'main' house had too much money. Of course, he did thoroughly enjoy the media room. Maybe he could send Hodgins out on some field work on Super Bowl Sunday and he could enjoy the theater sized flat screen HD television in blissful peace. He'd bet in that room, he'd be able to **smell** the player's sweat. Maybe he could invite Bones to come along. She'd enjoyed hockey, there was a chance for football. Small, but a chance nonetheless. It would be fun to try anyway.

Booth smiled softly as he pulled up behind her car and put his own in park. He pulled his loosened tie over his head and tossed in on the passenger seat. To his surprise he was already feeling better and more clear headed than he'd felt in a while. Maybe tonight wasn't going to be as excruciating as he'd thought. He slipped his suit jacket, laying it over the seat and unbuttoned his top two buttons. Go for three? Why not, tonight was for relaxing. He gave into his vanity and checked his hair in the rear view mirror, something he'd never let anyone catch him do. He was not **that** guy.

Booth popped the trunk and retrieved the two bottles of wine he'd bought for the party. His mother had taught him to never show up empty handed. He knocked on the front door and wondered whether he'd been supposed to buy gifts for anyone. _Too late now_. The door swung open revealing Angela, complete with a Santa hat and grinning from ear to ear.

"Booth you came!" She yanked him into the house and into her arms. He caught the scent of liquor rolling off her and surmised she was well on her way to a good time. Judging from the noise level in the other room he should have brought a couple bottles of tequila instead of wine. _I guess we all have tension to lose._ Angela peeled herself off him, skipping ahead into the other room and announcing his presence. He followed slowly after her and waved to everyone who'd turned to look at him. He scanned the room, noticing that he'd been the last to arrive.

Angela was now in the corner with Clark and Hodgins, the Santa hat now mysteriously planted firmly on the younger man's head. Angela was speaking animatedly, touching both men about the chests and arms repeatedly. One of them was obviously enjoying the show while the other looked like a trapped jack rabbit.

Sweets, Daisy and the remaining four interns were crowded around the bar area. Booth caught enough of their conversation to know they were discussing which drinking game they should start with. Sweets wanted to list the pros and cons of each game to decide the order of play. Booth smirked and shook his head. Sweets wasn't technically a squint, but he definitely partied like one.

Finally his eyes came to rest on Bones. She was on the far side of the room talking with Sam and her dad. They seemed to be the only completely sober group in the room. Bones saw him watching and waved him over. He nodded in response and after depositing his wine and grabbing himself a beer, went over to join the quiet group.

"I see Angela's in the partying mood."

Bones grinned, her eyes going wide and shaking her head. "I got here just before you did and she practically attacked me at the door." Booth glanced at the woman and noted that Clark had managed to escape. She was now having what appeared to be a very private conversation with Hodgins.

"I noticed she seemed extra friendly tonight." Bones glanced quickly at his face then back towards Angela. "Of course when she let me in she was in a hurry to get back to Hodgins there. Guess I missed out on a mauling huh?" He didn't know why he felt like he should say the white lie, but was it his imagination or did Bones relax just a bit more? He looked to Max and Sam and saw they were both drinking cans of Pepsi. He'd heard Sam had been sick a few days ago and examined her closely. She looked a little pale and worn out, but not as though she were in danger of passing out again. He noticed Max was sticking close and watching her carefully. If he didn't know Max as he did he'd think the two had something going on between them, regardless of their age difference. But Max looked at Sam the same way he looked at Bones- eyes always full of paternal pride and/or concern, depending on the situation. He was glad the two had bonded so quickly; Max needed the relationship probably as much as Sam did.

The next hour or so passed quickly. He watched the squints' version of a few drinking games and he'd giggled like a girl when it became clear that Dr. Clark Edison was a real lightweight. Halfway through one game of beer pong and the guy was grinning sloppily.

Hodgins had stopped drinking, probably so he could look after Angela should the need arise. She had slowed down considerably though and was in no danger of being sloppy drunk.

Bones had joined the beer pong tournament and after learning the rules, had surprised them all with her 'ridiculous hand eye coordination' as Fischer kept exclaiming every time she sunk a ball. Of course no one is perfect and Bones ended up having to drink a fair amount of beer. Nowhere near obliterated of course, but just enough that his own protective instincts flared to life. He trusted her squints and he liked her interns but men were men and drunk men were a completely different story. He'd made sure he was close to her the rest of the evening.

When Angela suddenly decided it was time for a group picture Booth grabbed Bones by the hand and pulled her up from the couch they'd been sitting on. He'd pulled a little hard and she'd been a little unsteady so she ended up crashing in to him with their hands locked between their chests. He wrapped his other arm around her (just to steady her) and leaned his head against hers, hoping she couldn't feel his heart racing. He fought to keep his voice normal but it came out an octave or so deeper.

"You okay Bones?" Her face remained buried in his chest and he felt the slight up and down motion as her nose brushed against his chest when she nodded. Her hand that wasn't grasped in his now rested on his bicep, gripped his shirt softly. _She must be really dizzy, maybe she drank more than I thought._ He wasn't feeling all that steady right this second either. Reluctantly he pulled her away from him to look into her eyes. She held his gaze briefly then blushing, looked down at the floor. Booth coughed nervously, trying to clear his throat.

"C'mon Ange wants a picture." He kept their hands locked (in case she fell) and led her towards the gathering group.

Cam grumbled that she never looked good in pictures when she was tipsy and threatened to burn the evidence if it was horrible. There were a few other light hearted complaints but even Fischer decided a picture would be a good idea. Of course his reasoning involved the supposed untimely death of someone in the group but hey, you get what you get.

Angela meanwhile was busy setting up the tripod and rigging the self timer on the camera. She looked into the viewer to make sure everyone was in the picture when she noticed the group was two short. Mock outrage sent her hands to her hips.

"Where are Max and Sam?"

"I saw them in the kitchen a couple minutes ago I'll get 'em." Wendell went to move from his position and head for the kitchen when Angela held up her hand to still him, opting for the faster, if much louder approach.

"Sam! Max! I want to see your cute butts in here now!"

"We're here we're here. Geez you bunch get loud when there's liquor." Seeing no open spaces Max and Sam added themselves to the edge of the group.

"No Sam Sweetie I can't see you there. You're short, go stand in front of Booth and Bren in the middle." Seeing that Angela was fully in control of the situation Sam obeyed her orders. Bones, feeling friendly, slid her arm around the front of Sam and pulled her against them in a loose choke hold. Sam laughed against them as Angela yelled for the group to smile and ran to her place… *click*

"Good morning sunshine!" Booth grinned at her when she opened the car door. His enthusiasm made her want to close it again. She grumbled something in response and slid into the passenger seat. "Hey just be happy you got to go home, change, and shower. A bunch of people had to sleep at Hodgin's last night. Good thing he has so many rooms." Brennan snorted.

"Lucky me."

"I'm just impressed that you out-partied everyone. Hell the squints started dropping like flies around 1 am. Sam crashed at like 11:30! But you, oh no you did it up right and partied on." Brennan detected a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"You didn't have to stay and wait for me Booth, I would've been fine."

"What and miss out on Dr. Partytime? No way." Yup, still too enthusiastic. She rolled down her window, welcoming the cold air on her face. She'd have to get him to drive her to Hodgins' at some point to get her car.

On the short ride to the Jeffersonian Brennan received texts from most of her staff saying they'd be in late. She got one from Sam as well, informing her she'd called off and not to expect her for lunch. She leaned her head against her seat and closed her eyes

"Next time we've really got to do this on a weekend."

"Yea like you could change Angela's mind once it's set on something."

"You're right. Next time maybe you should just shoot her."

"A joke from Temperance Brennan? I'm shocked!" She winced at his increasing volume as they pulled into a parking space.

"Who said I was joking?" Booth wisely chose not to respond and the two continued to walk in companionable silence making their way through the lab and into her office. Each deposited their belongings in the room before heading to the platform to look over the evidence. Booth wanted her to do her 'stare til the bones speak' thing, which had of course started an argument. She'd spent years learning every nuance to every bone in the human body. She'd committed to memory all the normal variations, genetic mutations, different types of diseases and injuries that could change the shape and formation of a bone. She could look at someone's skeletal structure and know how old someone had been, where they'd grown up, if they'd lived a hard life, and sometimes even the hobbies they indulged in. Saying that the bones 'spoke' to her, besides being absurdly inaccurate, completely disregarded her years of training and experience. He'd laughed when she'd told him as much, which did nothing to quell her irritation. She'd grudgingly relented to his request when he said he wanted to 'stare the evidence into submission' as well- which apparently was the more masculine version of 'speaking'. Both were preparing themselves for a long and probably fruitless day.

Rounding the steps to the platform and swiping her ID Brennan noticed some items lying on the stairs. _Who would leave something to be stepped on or thrown away?_ A lab was no place for carelessness, she'd have to find the person responsible and correct their error in behavior. Booth came up behind her as she stooped to get a better look at the objects. A piece of broken rock was acting as a paperweight, holding a single half sheet of notebook paper to the floor. Brennan's hands froze when she reached out to grab the items and a realization shot through her mind.

"Booth." She reached out to him, stopping his ascension of the stairs. Sensing her tone of voice he quickly directed his gaze to where she knelt.

"What is that?"

"It looks like someone took the stone from evidence and placed it on the paper for us to find." Booth stood up and looked towards the evidence table.

"No, the stone from the crime scene is still on the table. That looks like it could be the matching piece." Brennan was momentarily relieved to know the evidence was safe but her heart rate doubled when she noticed what was written on the paper in a shaky hand.

"Booth. The paper- it has a name written on it." The pair stared down at the paper, scenarios screaming through their minds but none making sense. They looked blankly at each other for a moment before Booth broke the silence.

"Call everyone in. Now."

Two hours later, after all the required photographs had been taken and everyone had arrived, each member set out to do their part in collecting all the information possible. Hodgins took the piece of rock, confirming that not only was it the same kind of rock, but that it was, as Booth had guessed, the other's pair. Angela took down the name to run through the Missing Person's Database but before she could reach her office a panting security guard came rushing over to the group.

"I…heard what happened…Checked the…tapes…Something…gotta see." Abandoning their tasks the five followed the man silently across the building to where the security offices were located. Each was battling their own barrage questions and excitement simultaneously. Whatever was happening, it was clear the case had taken on a new life.

Minutes later the team gathered around the security monitor.

"I've gotta tell ya- I've never seen anything like it, it's the damndest thing." The overweight security guard shook his head and fast forwarded the tape. Though the time stamp sped along the view of the platform remained eerily frozen. At 12:37am he hit play. "Now watch this."

A dark figure walked slowly onto the screen, his back towards the camera. An oversized hooded sweatshirt and baggy pants blocked any view of the person's face or body type, they couldn't even guess a skin color. The figure stopped in the middle of the floor, looking in all directions and froze. For a second Booth thought the camera had locked up, but then the man began to move toward the platform, carefully keeping his face averted from all the different camera angles. _He knows where all the cameras are- he's been here before. _The figure reached into his pockets and placed some items on the stairs.

"What is that? Can you zoom in?" Booth asked as the security guard paused the tape.

"You can't zoom from here but I'll make a copy and work on it in my office, I can zoom with my equipment there." Angela handed the security guard a disk to copy the footage. "I can see the paper and the rock we found on the stairs, I don't know what the other stuff is though." The security guard hit play again and the tape continued rolling. The figure leaned down and grabbed a piece of fabric off the stairs and pulled down his hood, again facing away from any security camera. He slid the cap over his braided hair. Booth's eyes suddenly snapped towards the railings.

"Pause it! Right there! Look where the railing comes to on him. Can you estimate a height from that?" Brennan placed a hand on his back and leaned over his shoulder, calculating silently in her head.

"I'd have to double check the exact measurements of the railing but I'd put her height around five and a half feet, maybe a little less." Booth turned towards her and found himself inches from her face. He swallowed loudly, momentarily distracted.

"'Her?' You can tell it's a woman?" She turned back to face the monitor, tilted her head to the left.

"Well not conclusively, no. But the height suggests a woman, and there's something about the way she moves that makes me think female." Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to come up with an explanation more concrete.

"Don't worry sweetie, I'm getting some girl vibes on my end too. Let's just say chick for now and figure out the facts later. I want to see what she does." Again the woman turned to the stairs and grabbed an object. _It's a key card!_ Booth realized about a second before she swiped it.

"Where the hell'd she get that? And who's card is it?" Booth was becoming more and more indignant at the lack of security this place had. **His** cases were housed here! Apparently anyone could walk in off the streets and take what they wanted!

"Sshh! Pay attention!" Bones frowned and the screen and leaned forward.

"Bones it's a security tape, there's no sound."

"I need to see what she did to the evidence Booth." He still didn't see why he needed to be quiet but he realized he was slightly on edge too. The last thing he wanted on this case was for the evidence to be tainted and inadmissible.

The woman walked slowly, almost reluctantly up the few stairs and onto the platform, pausing at the top. She stood there for almost a full minute with her head down and her hands on her stomach. _Well at least we know she's Caucasian now. _Even on the small monitor Booth could see her stomach rising and falling rapidly. _Whoever you are- you're scared to death._ He watched as she struggled to slow her breathing and took one final deep breath. She raised both arms into the air, as if someone were pointing a gun at her. Booth glanced quickly around at the other camera angles. No **visible** gunman at least. In an apparent burst of courage the woman walked quickly towards the table with the victim's personal effects, all the while keeping her hands in the air. She faltered, hands dropping to her shoulders briefly as her back bent forward sharply. As if someone had punched her in the gut. She quickly straightened herself and forced her hands back toward the ceiling. What was this girl doing? Booth straightened as a thought occurred to him. _She knew where the cameras are, she knows they're there. She's trying to make sure we know she didn't tamper with the evidence! _He watched, a strange sense of gratitude settling over him. He tried to shake it off, reminding himself that this girl, whoever she was, had broken into the lab and had potentially contaminated the evidence. He **should** be feeling furious. He couldn't quite force himself to get there. The girl seemed as though she cared about the boy deeply. That or she felt guilty about killing him. His thoughts skipped back to the little boy without a face. _There's the rage I'm looking for_. Either way they had to find her. Booth continued to watch as the woman now stood over the table that held the boy's remains. Which of course were also left out in the open. Why had he never noticed how lax the security was around here? Time seemed to stretch on forever but the timer showed only minutes had passed before the woman slipped back down the stairs, wrote on the paper, placed it under the stone, and left. She was as careful avoiding the cameras walking out as she had been walking in to the building.

"Well that was…" Angela started.

"Weird." She glared at Hodgins.

"I was going to say heartbreaking" Hodgin's eyes went wide with disbelief.

"Heartbreaking? Some chick **breaks into our lab**, gawks at our evidence and leaves a friendly note, and all you've got is 'heartbreaking?' She could be the killer!"

"Then why would she write down his name? Why wouldn't she tamper with the evidence? She could've screwed the whole case!"

"One, we're not positive Tyler Weston is our victim, and two she still may have screwed our case. I'll have to run this tape by the prosecutor and hope he doesn't try to kill you all… Or at least your head of security." Booth clenched his jaw as he thought about how that particular conversation was going to go.

"If she's **not** guilty then what's with all the cloak and dagger? Why not identify the remains like a normal human being?" Angela paused, glancing at the tape.

"I don't know, but I'm telling you she didn't kill that little boy. She loved him."

"Always seeing the good in people. Even when they're skulking around in the dark and wearing a mask." He shook his head and they exchanged grins.

"It's a gift. I'm going to run Tyler Weston through the missing children's database and see what comes up, and I'll work on the security footage to see if I can get anymore details out of it." Hodgins and Angela left the security office shoulder to shoulder. Booth turned to Brennan.

"I think we should have Sweets watch this just in case he picks up on something but I'm with Angela on this one. If she did kill him, I'd bet it was an accident."

"Wha- Booth! There's **no** evidence of that! She obviously knew the cameras were there, the whole thing could've been an act!"

"Bones, we've had zero leads. She could've just stayed out of the picture and we would never have caught on! What's the point of this whole thing if she wasn't trying to point us in the right direction?"

"Maybe she didn't know we weren't getting anywhere. Maybe she-"

"Bones. She knew where all the cameras were located. She knew when no one would be here and where we kept the evidence. She went straight to the platform. She left the mask off until she'd have to face the cameras so she wasn't worried about her face being seen in the lab if someone happened to come by. **And** she had a key card. She might not work here but she's damn familiar with the place. If she can get a hold of all that information, finding out that we have no leads would be relatively easy."

"I never thought of that… If she works here then maybe Angela can run the security tapes through some kind of mass recognition program. She could compare it to all the Jeffersonian's employees."

"Sounds like a good start, but what I really want to know is whose key card she was using." Booth focused his attention on the security guard who'd been thoroughly wrapped up in their conversation. Flustered and fumbling the man rolled his chair over to the computers.

"Coming right up sir!"

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Back in her office Angela read the results of her query. Tyler Weston aged 12. His picture had been for his school ID. His brunette hair had looked like he'd just rolled out of bed but his blue eyes sparkled impishly. He'd been excited about something. Hopefully he'd gotten to do whatever it was before… **this **happened. She had to work to block out a comparison forming in her mind. The boy in the photograph versus the small faceless form lying on a metal slab one hundred feet away. Angela shook her head to clear it just as Booth and Brennan walked through the door.

"So is our victim really Tyler Weston?"

"Well there is a missing twelve year old boy by that name. He's been missing from the D.C. area for about three weeks, which matches our estimates for time of death. Height and weight also matches."

"He lived in D.C? What's the parent's address? We should go and try to get a DNA sample to compare." Angela scanned down the page and caught her breath. As if this case weren't bad enough. She kept her eyes locked on the computer, not wanting to look at Brennan.

"He was reported missing by his foster mother, a Mrs. Bakerson, two weeks ago." Booth was quiet for a moment glancing at Brennan, whose jaw had clenched with the news. Then he processed the rest of Angela's sentence.

"Two weeks? Why the delay in reporting him missing?" Angela read through the rest of the information but it yielded no results.

"I don't know, it doesn't say."

"We'll just have to ask her ourselves." Brennan turned around and walked out of the office, "Ange text me the address and tell Cam we're going to Tyler's address to talk to Mrs. Bakerson and get some samples."

Angela mouthed 'good luck' to Booth as he hurried to catch up with Brennan. She turned back to the screen and gazed at Tyler's face a little longer. Something itched at her subconscious but she couldn't get a thought to materialize. She decided she needed a break and called Sam for lunch. Max told her she was had the flu and would probably be out for a few days. Angela was glad Max had woken her up last night long enough to drive her home. Poor thing. Angela hesitated for a moment but then shot Hodgins a text message. She was hungry and didn't feel up to eating alone. This was turning out to be a bitch of a case.

**There you are, hope you enjoyed reading, let me know your thoughts either way!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Don't own it... blah blah blah**

Max watched over her as she took one last look at her apartment. Fear, regret, and anguish flickered across her features, but she allowed them only a second. As she turned to face him and nod that she was ready, determination settled across her small frame.

"You know how to reach me if you need anything."

"I do, but I won't." He nodded, accepting the truth. He sensed that she was struggling, unsure how to take the first step. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and pulled her into him, holding tightly. Her arms came around his back and he kissed the top of her head. Then, with one last squeeze they separated and he watched her disappear down the hallway, never looking back.

Booth barely had his SUV in park when she jumped out and strode toward the front door. After a tension filled ride to Tyler Weston's foster home Booth knew Bones was about one bad remark away from going off on someone. As much as he didn't want to be on the receiving end, he really didn't want it to be Mrs. Bakerson, at least until they knew if she was guilty of something besides indifference. The seven days between Tyler's disappearance and Mrs. Bakerson contacting the police was suspicious, but far from damning.

"Bones slow down!" He leapt on to the porch before she could ring the bell. "Look how bout you let me do the talking on this one okay?"

"I know what to say Booth, I've done this dozens of times." Her lips were tight and her shoulders were back. She was shielding like hell but her clenched jaw and flared nostrils were a dead giveaway. She was pissed. She stabbed at the doorbell with an open hand.

"We don't know anything yet Bones. You've got to calm down before we go in there or we won't be able to get anything from her. You know how this works." She stared at him and he could tell she was deciding whether he was just trying to handle her. He was- but it was also true. They heard footsteps running towards the door and tiny bodies crashing into it followed by a muffled arguing. Seconds later the door was flung open revealing three young boys.

"Heya guys. Is Mrs. Bakerson home?" The oldest looking boy, Booth guess he was about nine, stepped in front of the other two crossing his arms over his chest.

"Who wants to know?" Amused to be playing macho with a nine year old Booth unclipped his badge, giving the trio a nice look at his gun in the process.

"Special Agent Seeley Booth FBI." The boys in back dropped their mouths open simultaneously and ran screeching into the house screaming for Mrs. Bakerson. Tough man in front widened his eyes a fair amount but kept his cool. He focused his suspicious gaze onto Bones.

"Who's she? She have a gun too?"

"I'm Dr. Brennan and not today." Deciding she was of no interest he opened the door wider and allowed them into the house. They stood guarded by the boy in the entryway until Mrs. Bakerson appeared from the kitchen, trying to quiet the boys who were jumping around her in circles. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and slung it over her shoulders.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes ma'am. I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth and this here's Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"So I've heard."

"We'd like to talk to you about Tyler." She stared at him for a moment, then turned to the boys and told them to play upstairs in their rooms. The younger two complained but the little tough man herded them quickly up the stairs. Booth bet the boy knew why they were here and made a mental note to talk with him later.

"I guess if the FBI's involved this isn't good news."

"Ma'am I'm sorry but we found a body that we think might be Tyler." He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and showed Mrs. Borden pictures of the boy's belongings. "Do you recognize any of these?" Her face paled and she nodded.

"Those were Ty's shoes and book bag. He was so excited when we bought them for school." Positive now they had the right boy, Booth nonetheless knew he'd have to get proof.

"I'm sorry to ask but do you have something we could take to compare DNA? Toothbrush, comb… anything like that?"

"Yes his toothbrush is still in it's holder. I can't guarantee his will be the only DNA on it though- in this house you're just as likely to find dog DNA on it." She motioned them into the living room and cleared some toys off the couch so they could sit. Sitting next to her, Booth could tell that Bones' tension level had come down somewhat, though she was still sitting on the edge of the cushions with her back straight as a rod.

"How many kids do you have living with you Mrs. Bakerson?"

"Five… well four." Her eyes teared up and she looked away, clearing her throat. "All boys."

"It must get pretty hectic around here with that many boys."

"It can be chaotic, but they're all good boys." Booth let that sit for a moment before jumping in to the real questions.

"How long had Tyler been living with you?"

"Almost four years now."

Bones spoke quietly enough that she was almost speaking to herself, "That's a long run for a foster home." Bakerson smiled tightly and drew herself up in her chair.

"Tyler was a good boy- good in school and never gave me any trouble. I try to keep them as long as I can, give them a sense of stability." He could feel Bones restraining herself from saying something which, frankly, surprised him. While he wouldn't say she had a quick temper, whenever it did flare up she tended to let it loose. He decided to let her off the hook and get to the question that was on both their minds.

"You do a good thing for these kids. I can see that you care for them very much. I do have a question though. Why wait seven days to report Tyler missing?" For the first time since they'd arrived her tears fell down her flushed face. She stared at the floor, her hands fumbled with each other and picked at her pants as though she didn't know what to do with them.

"I will never forgive myself for those seven days," She began quietly. "I just… I thought he went off with Elizabeth. It's stupid but I wanted to give them some time. I never thought…" She lifted her head now, but still couldn't meet their eyes.

Booth leaned forward on the couch. "Who's Elizabeth?"

"His sister. She ran away from her foster home a couple years ago. Tyler's always so secretive about her, he never mentions her name but I know they have contact. He fell asleep once on this journal he likes to carry around- and I honestly thought he was writing to a little girlfriend and I was curious. I could see though when I read it that it was Elizabeth. I was worried she'd be trouble for him but she seemed to be a good influence. He's a horrible liar so I can always tell when he's going off to meet her. He practically glows for days afterward."

"So you thought she'd taken him somewhere?"

"Yes. I figured with the holidays it was probably just some extended visit for them. I was going to ground him for life once he got home, since he hadn't even bothered to lie to me and make up a story to ease my mind."

"What got you worried?"

"Ryan, my oldest after Ty, ran in one day from school. Said a woman asked him about Ty and when he said he hadn't been home in a while she freaked out. Ryan was pretty shaken up."

"Did she hurt him?"

"No nothing like that. Ryan and Tyler lived here together a long time, they're like brothers. Ryan's smart enough to know something was wrong. So I searched Tyler's room and showed Ryan a picture of Elizabeth Ty kept in his dresser. When he said it was the same woman, I called the police right away."

"Mrs. Bakerson we'd like to talk to Ryan at some point, I'd understand if you'd like to talk to him first." He didn't relish the thought of telling a little kid that his brother was dead. "In the meantime we'd like to take a look at Tyler's room if that's okay."

"Yes of course. It's up the stairs, second door on the right." She rose off her chair when they stood but made no move to follow. "Agent Booth, if you could send the boys down to me I'd like to talk to them now."

"I'll send them down. If any of you have any questions as best as I can." Mrs. Bakerson nodded in thanks and the two made their way upstairs. Booth stuck his head in the noisiest room and told the boys they needed to go talk to their foster mom. The younger two raced passed him and down the stairs without a seconds hesitation. Tough man lagged behind, from the look on his face Booth knew the kid was well aware what he was about to hear. Booth slipped one of his cards from his wallet and left it on the kid's pillow in case he wanted to talk before they saw each other again.

When he caught up with Bones she was already going through Tyler's drawers looking for anything that might point them in the right direction. It was a small room but it looked as though it only belonged to Tyler. There was a bunk bed set up but he could see Tyler used the top to sleep in and the bottom as an everything-goes-here storage place. He couldn't help but think of Parker. His son used his closet like that, throwing all his stuffed animals in at once, and then laying on top of them with the door closed. He said it made him feel like his toys were lifting him up and carrying him away. Booth rummaged through the top bunk, checking under the mattress and pillow and underneath the covers but found nothing. As he felt along the outer edges of the bed he noticed a sheet was rolled up and had a rope extending to the bottom bunk. Booth grinned in spite of himself and settled onto the lower bed. Bones stopped what she was doing and gave him a quizzical look as he leaned back and yanked on the rope. The sheet fell down and effectively shut out the rest of the room, making the entire lower bunk the perfect fort for a twelve year old.

"How did you know it would do that?"

"My friend had bunk beds when I was a kid, he did this all the time and I was jealous as hell." He lay back in the bed and gazed at the 'roof' of Tyler's fort. Taped to the ceiling was a picture, obviously of Tyler's family. Tyler looked about five years old in the picture and was happily snuggled in a man's arms. Booth carefully unstuck the picture and turned it over, looking for any kind of inscription.

_All of us on a picnic! 2001 Ty 4 Liz 8_

Booth wondered if it was the last picture taken with his whole family together. It was creased in a few places and there were bits of old tape sticking to the corners. It was obvious Tyler took it with him and hung it in every home he'd been to. It's good his sister still looked out for him, Angela and Sweets had filled him in on the communication journals the kids shared together. Hopefully Elizabeth knew what Ty had been up to the days surrounding his death, narrow their focus a little. Of course finding a (he quickly did the math in his head) sixteenish year old runaway in the middle of D.C. wasn't going to be easy. He'd have to pass the girl's photograph out to all the local precincts and see if they could manage to pick her up.

"Booth." The tone of her voice had him out of the bed and standing in a microsecond. He relaxed slightly when there wasn't a masked figure pressing a gun to her head, you never knew with Bones, but saw her expression and a feeling of uneasiness crept into his gut. Bones was anything but melodramatic, but the way she was looking at the photograph in her hands made Booth think she'd seen a ghost. He could see from the writing on the back that it was the picture of Elizabeth Mrs. Bakerson had spoken of. Bones shook her head and stared at him as he walked behind her to look over her shoulder. Regardless of Bones' expression, Booth was expecting Elizabeth Weston to be peering at him from the photograph. Instead he found himself staring at a younger version of Sam, leaning against a tree with her arms wrapped around a beaming Tyler.

"Okay Bones you see Sam too right?"

"I don't understand what this means. She can't be his sister." He wanted to agree with her wholeheartedly, though evidence to the contrary was literally staring them in the face. Sonofabitch.

"I can't believe this. I can't." Angela hung up the phone in frustration as she paced back and forth in front of Booth and Brennan. "She's not answering."

"I'm guessing she's not going to pick up Ange, no matter how many times you call." Booth paused to let the truth of it sink in before turning to Brennan. "We should go over to her apartment, she might have already left but maybe we can catch her." The two started to walk away when Brennan turned back.

"Angela can you look up Elizabeth Weston's file? We only know that she's sixteen or seventeen and she ran away from her foster home a few years ago. I want to have all the information we can when we find her."

"No. I'm sorry Sweetie but I'm going with you. You two may be all gung ho about finding Elizabeth Weston but I need to find Sam."

"Angela they're the same person. This isn't going to be a social call, she could be a suspect."

"This is exactly why I need to go. Maybe I didn't know her name but I knew her. I'm telling you she did not kill her brother. And Bren, even if you're pissed her for lying, you know it too. Now let's go." She stalked passed them still clutching the wrinkled picture of the smiling children. Despite her speech and her bravado, inside Angela was reeling. She should have known. Sam- Elizabeth looked so young, Christ she was seventeen! She's just a kid! Her mind flashed to all the nights they went out together and she couldn't force the two girls together. Sam, a twenty year old college student and close friend; Elizabeth, a seventeen year old runaway orphan. Sam had never talked about her past and sometimes had the tendency to get really quiet and withdrawn but never to the point where Angela would've guessed at anything resembling this. But the journal. Now that she knew it had been Sam's writing, Angela could clearly hear her friend's voice speaking those written words. Angela's resolve tightened fiercely. She may not have been completely honest but there must have been a good reason. Sam's a friend, her brother's dead, and she's alone. The rest could wait.

"The apartment's in her name- Samantha Kline's name anyway. How does a seventeen year old girl get an apartment?"

"The same way she gets a job at the Jeffersonian and Howard University. She conned people." Brennan's voice carefully held very little emotion but the two people in the car both knew her well enough to see through it.

"She's worked her ass off taking enough credits since she started that she's almost a junior. She's not some con artist. She **worked** for her money and studied for her classes. She needed a place to stay and she worked hard for this. She deserves this apartment, real name or not." She didn't know why she was getting so defensive. Maybe because they were pulling the words right out of her mind and it annoyed her. Angela knew she could be flaky sometimes but she prided herself on being fiercely loyal to her friends. Of course this particular situation had never come up before.

The SUV finally pulled to a stop and Angela leapt form the car. She wanted to get this over with, to hear it directly from Sam's mouth. Elizabeth's mouth. Whatever.

She heard Booth and Brennan get out of the car but didn't stop to wait for them. The building wasn't very safety conscious so waiting to be buzzed in was unnecessary. As she walked through the hallway to Sam's door she wondered what she'd say when Sam opened the door. She got to it and knocked before she could come up with an answer. Booth and Brennan were only a couple feet away when Ange heard someone coming to the door and checking the peephole. By the time the door was unlocked they were standing on either side of her, looking very FBI-ish.

"Whoa!" The tall thirtysomething bleached blonde who opened the door jumped at the sight of her additional guests, but recovered quickly, placing herself slightly behind the protection of the door.

"Hi I'm Sam's friend Angela. Is she around?" She did her best to smile and look friendly, though today it wasn't the easiest look to accomplish.

"Ain't no Sam here."

"What about Elizabeth? Is she home?" A slicker of recognition slinked past the girl's eyes, replaced quickly by a practiced nonchalance.

"Whaddya want her for?"

"I told you, I'm her friend." The woman glanced skeptically at Brennan and Booth.

"They her friends too?"

Angela sighed and glared at the other two. "I know they don't look like it but yes, they're her friends too. We're worried about her." Brennan snorted but wisely kept her mouth shut after Ange shot her the hairy eyeball.

"Wait. You. What you say your name was?"

"Angela. Montenegro." The woman's whole demeanor changed instantly.

"Oh damn my bad. Lizzy left a letter for you. Come on in doll. Lemme just get that for you." The three stepped out of the hallway and into the apartment waiting as the woman crossed the room and retrieved a large envelope from the table. "Sorry you missed her but she's lef outta town. That Lizzy-girl she's just a sweetie pie. This place paid up til the end of the month, she tole me I could stay here while I sorted out my… money issues. She tole me someone would come for her and to give 'em this. I thought it might be some shady bidness, why else she leaving a nice place like this so fast? I don't wanna get mixed up in no back alley shit but she told me Angela Montenegro be good people and to give her this envelope. So here ya are doll. Need anything else?" Angela and Brennan were silently trying to process everything the women had blurted out to them. Booth seemingly unaffected spoke first.

"Thanks for your help. Where ah, where did you say you met Lizzy?"

"Oh I didn't sugar pie. But I met her at work. Over at that seedy little hole in the wall… The Sleeping Tiger?" She waggled her eyebrows at him and smirked, "I don't suppose you've ever been around there though, man like you don't need help in those areas." Booth's jaw clenched and Angela's head snapped up.

"Wait, she was a stripper?"

"Oh honey don't look so shocked. Girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. Lizzy-girl never did quite belong there though, could see it a mile away. Anyhow she ain't worked there for more'n a year. Was just damn luck she came in during my shift yesterday."

"Why'd she show up there after so long?"

"Sugar I couldn't tell ya, after I heard about this here gem of an opportunity I didn't listen to a damn word she said. Think she was wantin' to talk to the boss though." Angela could see that Booth was trying to get himself under control. He hadn't been especially close to Sam but he'd liked her; hearing that she'd been stripping at fifteen was bringing out all sorts of protective fatherly instincts. He looked like his jaw could crumble the way the joints were pulsing through his skin. Brennan of course looked decidedly blank. No emotions there, no sir. Ange figured she'd have to make nice if they were going to have a graceful exit, these two weren't up to it at the moment.

"Thanks for all your help, we really appreciate it."

"Hey free livin', alls I gotta do is play mailman? Nothin' to it." With her obligations complete she walked them out, closing the door with a smile and a wave of her hand. The three of them walked silently out to the SUV, feeling deflated and confused. It took Angela a few minutes to realize she was still holding the envelope Sam had left for them. She ripped open the top and saw that there was an open letter and a small envelope inside, along with another composition book. She pulled the letter out first. The smaller envelope had her name written on it so she slipped it in her pocket, wanting to read the letter in private. She handed the journal to Booth and read the letter out loud.

_I'll assume it's Booth that came looking for Elizabeth, but if it isn't, this book goes to Special Agent Seeley Booth or to Dr. Brennan at the Jeffersonian Institute. They'll know what to do with it. This is all I know about my brother, I've read it over and over again but don't see anything to point to who would've wanted to hurt him. He was the sweetest boy. He got lucky with Mrs. Bakerson and found a good home there- he wasn't one of those kids who got jaded too young. He was so innocent. Find out who hurt him. I can't stay. I'm sorry. For everything._

_-Sam _

**_Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!_**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing! Even if I don't respond I'm always happy to get them, helps me know when I'm on the right track.. or when I'm on the wrong one :) Enjoy!**

Angela and Booth debated going over to the Sleeping Tiger and talking to Elizabeth's boss. Brennan listened to the conversation just enough to hear that Angela thought Booth needed to cool off before trying to get information out of anyone. Booth on the other hand knew that Sam could be getting farther from reach every minute.

She couldn't understand why they both kept saying 'Sam'. Her name was Elizabeth Weston. Samantha Kline didn't even exist. That they continued to use the pseudonym was evidence that they were too involved in the case. They needed to distance themselves if they were going to find Tyler's murderer. That was the only important thing. It was the only rational thing. She couldn't understand why Booth was so angry about Elizabeth being an exotic dancer. He had certainly seemed to enjoy himself with Strawberry Lust. Elizabeth may have been young but it wasn't as though she'd been forced into anything, at least as far as they knew. She'd needed money and had made a choice. Illogically, Brennan's mind pulled up a personal slideshow of the girl she'd known as her friend. When she thought of men pawing at the small girl her gut twisted unpleasantly. She slammed her walls back into place, knowing she was the one who had to stay focused on the facts of the case instead of the emotions. Angela and Booth didn't seem able to do that.

"Angela and I will go to the Sleeping Tiger and talk to some people." She looked pointedly at Booth. "You should wait in the car." He of course was appalled by the idea but she managed, finally, to get him to see reason. The owner would feel more comfortable speaking to someone not involved in law enforcement, especially when the conversation was going to focus on a minor dancing in his club. She didn't mention his irrational emotions as he was more likely to go into the club just to prove her wrong if nothing else. He stubbornly decided to wait just outside the entrance of the club instead of in the car even though the temperature was below freezing. If he wanted to get hypothermia that was his decision.

They left him there tense, grumbling, and cold, and moved from the relative quiet of the parking lot to the pulsing beat of the club. Usually she could appreciate music in all its forms- even if she didn't happen to enjoy something herself, she could appreciate its cultural relevance. Tonight however, the dance music fell on her like an assault. She could feel each beat make its way through her entire body before ending in a vicious crack to her auditory nerves. It felt like her brain was jiggling- unscientific but accurate. She winced and hoped the manager's office was soundproof.

She and Angela scanned the club quickly, but since there was no staff uniform (aside from the women's lack of one) no one obviously stood out as the owner/manager. Angela nudged her with her elbow and motioned toward the bar, which was of course under two despairingly large speakers. _What idiot designed this place? How can he possibly take drink orders when there's music drowning out all conversation? _She sighed, resigned, and followed Angela through the crowd, both ignoring the just-this-side-of-vulgar comments and wolf whistles. Her entire body had been ready to respond to a well placed grab and fondle but the patrons seemed mindful of the rules: Look but don't touch. Or apparently, whistle but don't touch. A few beers with Booth weren't going to cut it tonight. She was going to have to bring out the hard stuff, or his hard stuff rather. Her face colored deeply and she was glad she hadn't said that last bit out loud. _Liquor. I'm talking about his liquor._

She hung back as Angela leaned over the bar and screamed into the bartender's ear to be heard. It took a few tries until he was able to discern that she wasn't asking for a drink and a few more to make him understand her request. He gave Ange an appraising look, decided she wasn't dangerous, and jerked his head toward the back of the club. Brennan had noticed the purple curtains before but had assumed it led to somewhere secluded where the women could bring their higher paying clientele.

Angela grabbed her hand (increasing the number and volume of the cat calls) pulled her quickly through the crowd and into the hallway behind the curtains. Thankfully, with all the speakers facing away from this direction, the music was much more tolerable. It took a second before Brennan was aware Ange was talking to her and even then it sounded like she was under water.

"Okay hon, let me handle this guy okay? Catching assholes with honey and all that."

"What? I don't know what that means." Not answering her, Angela shook out her arms and legs, wiggling her body and exhaling slowly. She very much resembled a dog shaking out the water from it's coat. Brennan raised her eyebrows and stared at her friend.

"This is how I prepare myself for dealing with pricks." She huffed and threw her shoulders back. "Okay I'm ready." She barely raised her hand to knock when the door opened revealing a petite brunette in a large hoodie facing a large muscular man behind her.

"Thanks again for the shift Ray- it really helped me out."

"You come here if you need anything else. Ya know all ya gotta do is ask." She laughed in her familiar way and hugged the man.

"You may look tough but you're just a great big teddy bear." Ray's eyes were soft on the girl and he blushed when he looked up and noticed they weren't alone. He cleared his throat and Elizabeth turned around, her smile falling quickly from her face. Ray, sensing the tension in the following silence stepped in front of Elizabeth, blocking her from view or harm. Brennan's respect for the man rose slightly at his protective gesture.

"Can I help you ladies?" Before Brennan could comment Elizabeth squeezed herself back around him again.

"They're just looking for me Ray. It's okay."

He stared at her skeptically. "You sure? I can get Jackson over here."

"No muscle needed. I promise." She hugged him again. "I'll see you later." When Ray seemed satisfied and tucked himself back in his office Elizabeth stared hard at the ground. By the time she opened her mouth she seemed to have gathered her courage.

"Don't give Ray any trouble. He's a good guy, who tried to help a poor college student out. He doesn't know anything." She waited a beat then anxiously filled the silence. "I guess I'm under arrest then?"

"No of course-

"Yes most likely." Angela glared at her horrified. "What- Ange she stole someone's identity and I'm pretty sure she broke into the lab. Both of which are illegal." Elizabeth only nodded but Angela was obviously taken aback.

"How do you know that? Did I miss something?"

"She's the right height and she has the same sweatshirt on. Plus it just makes sense." Comprehension filled Angela's face and she looked at Elizabeth- who was very deliberately not looking back at her. Brennan was the safer, less emotional choice.

"Is Booth waiting out on the floor?"

"He's waiting for us outside. Do you need to get anything before we leave?"

Elizabeth laughed deprecatingly. "I've everything I'm going to need right here. Let's get this over with." She walked out ahead of the two women and led them expertly through the crowd. They paused briefly at the door, fortifying themselves against the cold. Booth was on them as soon as they opened the door- clearly impatient, though it probably had more to do with the temperature than how long they'd been in the club. His eyes took in Elizabeth's presence in seconds.

His voice was gruff and none too friendly. "We're going to take this conversation somewhere warmer." The someplace warmer, she assumed, was FBI headquarters; his territory.

_God this is so surreal._ Standing behind a glass panel she watched as her friend was about to be interrogated by some random FBI suit. She'd feel better if it were Booth in there with Sam but the 'powers that be' absolutely refused. Booth was too close to the key witness/suspect, as apparently was Sweets, their second choice. Both of whom were in the observation room with her, with waves of tension and frustration coming off their bodies. Both had been internally berating themselves for not catching on to the whole Sam/ Elizabeth thing- each flipping though the now glaringly obvious signs. Men always think they have some sort of psychic abilities to detect… everything. It's hard for them to accept that, at least some of the time, if someone doesn't want them to know something bad enough, they're not going to. Ange didn't have the patience at the moment to repair their fragile egos. Let them stew in their Y chromosomes a while.

Brennan had run off and escaped to the lab, which Ange would worry about later. Right now every particle of her being was focused on the conversation in the next room.

Sam had been waiting nervously for Booth for the better part of an hour. When Special Agent Hunt walked in she'd been surprised but visibly relieved.

"Okay Miss Weston sorry about your wait." Sam stiffened at the name but let it pass without comment. "I'm Special Agent Hunt and I'll be asking you some questions. Just a nice friendly chat okay?" Sam said nothing but looked pointedly at her right hand cuffed to the table. "Well you are in custody for some other issues I understand, but we'll get to those later." Sam's advocate sat in the corner of the room looking bored and like she wasn't going to be advocating much at all.

"Alright Elizabeth we'll start with the easy questions."

"It's Sam." She interrupted him flatly.

He flipped through his paperwork. "It says here you're Elizabeth Weston, a seventeen year old child. I'll refer to you as such." Then as Angela watched, Sam slipped away and someone else, someone harder, took her place. She unzipped her hoodie slowly, turning up the corner of her mouth in a seductive smirk and looking Hunt straight in the eye.

"I can be anybody you want me to be. All you have to do is ask." She left the hoodie unzipped and opened wide revealing a barely-there string bikini top and strategically placed stage glitter. Booth turned away from the widows clenching his fists. He glared at Sweets who was too busy analyzing the reasons behind her sudden undress to realize that she actually **was** undressed. As soon as Booth's glare penetrated his thoughts he blushed and turned his back to the window. Realistically though you could see more skin at the beach. It was only unsettling because they all knew it was just part of a costume she'd danced her way out of a few hours ago.

"That's great. She won't say anything to Agent Hunt now. She's completely retreated into a defensive persona. Even if she has any information he won't be getting any of it."

"What, like she's got multiple personalities or something?"

"No, nothing like that. From what I can see she's created a way to separate her old life and her new one. She knows Sam and Elizabeth are one person, but the names provide her with a kind of guide for how to live her life in every situation. If Hunt is intent on destroying the illusion of 'Sam' that she's worked to make a reality, she's going to give him what he wants: Elizabeth, least the person she views as the worst parts of herself."

"You got all that from that sixty second exchange in there?" Booth's incredulity apparently didn't deserve a response because Sweet's just lifted one of his eyebrows and turned his attention back to the interrogation. _Cocky little man._

They watched through the window and saw Agent Hunt's face lock down. His stern but polite demeanor vanished quickly. Ange could see he was ready to get nasty and she shifted nervously, not wanting to see what was about to happen but needing to bear witness for her friend regardless.

So did Tyler just get too needy for you? Got tired of the kid whining all the time?"

Sam's eyes were cold, her face was still and hard as stone. She gave no hint that she'd heard him. Angela on the other hand was infuriated.

"Booth! We know she didn't kill Tyler. Get that meathead to lay off."

"No Ange we don't know for sure that she didn't kill him. Loving someone doesn't automatically preclude killing them. All Agent Hunt knows is she's charged with Identity Theft, Evidence Tampering, and breaking into a government building. Plus she's got no alibi. What the hell's he supposed to think?" Frustrated and about to explode Angela paced to the back of the observation room, shoving her hands in her jacket pockets. When the corners of an envelope jabbed her hand she yanked it out quickly, feeling guilty she'd forgotten about the letter. She turned her back towards the men and opened the envelope quietly, not wanting them to take it as evidence or something ridiculous before she'd had a chance to read it.

_Angela,_

_I've written about a dozen versions of this letter. Now I've run out of time so however this turns out it'll have to do. I know a piece of paper isn't going to make up for any of this. I know you feel betrayed and angry and that an apology doesn't even begin to cover it. I'm sorry for how things turned out- but I can't apologize for what I've done, only for how it effects everyone I care about. I can't apologize for using a false name, it put a roof over my head, got me into college, and allowed me to earn money in a respectable way so that when I turned eighteen I could take care of Tyler. If it hadn't been for him I would've disappeared down some street drain long ago. __**He**__ made me pull myself up and out. He made me keep walking. Now I keep forgetting how to breathe._

_Thank you for making me feel like a part of a family. The time I spent as your friend, as their friend, was the closest I've felt to absolutely content in a very long time. Please, no matter what you think of me now, don't doubt that I was your friend. My name and my past can't be enough to erase all that right? I need to believe that you know me better than anyone. That who I was with you is who I am._

_-Sam_

Angela's thoughts and Hunt's interrogation were interrupted when Sam's advocate finally, **finally** requested a lawyer now that Sam was 'a viable suspect in a homicide'. _Idiot woman._

Agent Hunt spoke sweetly to the advocate but the message was clearly for Sam. "That's probably a good idea at this point ma'am. Those other charges, well she's a minor and an orphan; people eat that kind of thing up. Plus you could probably spin some kind of extenuating circumstances story. I'd be surprised if she got any hard jail time. Homicide though, that's some rough business. No one cares about a hard childhood when they're looking at decayed and mutilated remains of a twelve year old boy. Jury'll put her away for life without even blinking. You just call that lawyer for her. Protect her baby killing ass.

Booth whirled around in shock, "What the hell is his problem?" He was about to call Hunt out of the room but was interrupted when Sam's chair clanged to the floor. Hunt and the advocate were standing now, trying to distance themselves from the fury emanating from the small girl. She slammed her hands across the table as far as she could, the handcuffs snapping painfully against her wrist- she didn't even flinch.

Leaning across the table, looking into Hunt's eyes she spat, "Of course I fucking killed him. Couldn't keep his damn mouth shut. He was going to tell everyone."

"So you shot him in the face to shut him up."

"Exactly."

"Then what- you decided to stab him a couple dozen times for good measure?" Her nostrils flared out and Angela could see her body shaking but her face stayed frozen.

"I was pissed, got a little carried away. What the hell does it matter?"

Furious Angela looked to Booth to step in. "That prick knows damn well she didn't kill him. He's just juicing up the murder to torture her."

"He's doing his job Angela, doing it like a bastard, but…" Regardless of his words Booth stood poised to jump into the interrogation room at any moment.

"Yeah you must've been pissed. His little body butchered and left for the animals. Guess you didn't stick around long enough but the damn rats had themselves a feast." He leaned in to her face and snarled, "Couldn't even tell he was human by the time we showed up."

Before Angela could react Booth was through the interrogation room and pushing Hunt out the door. She could hear them yelling in the hallway.

Sweets exhaled loudly. "Whoa. That was wicked harsh." He joined the men in the hallway to try and calm the situation, or at least take it somewhere less public. Still separated by the thick glass panel Ange watched Sam frozen in the same position as if Agent Hunt was still there. Her eyes stared unseeing at the wall and her face had gone a shocking shade of white. Sudden movement caught her eye when the chicken shit child advocate scurried out of the room. As soon as the door clicked shut Sam snapped out of her shock, collapsing onto the floor and retching violently, her cuffed arm twisting awkwardly above her. Angela burst into the room without another thought and held Sam's hair out of her face. She had a sudden flashback of a few months ago when she'd let herself drink way too much like some kind of college kid. Sam had stayed with her all night, holding her hair and rubbing her back. Sam didn't acknowledge her presence other than to lean into Angela's body next to her. The retching finally subsided but both women stayed where they were kneeling together on the floor. Ange could feel the heat radiating from Sam's body and removed her sweatshirt to give her some air. She'd gotten it down near Sam's shoulder blades when the girl leapt up as though she'd been burned, pulling her sweatshirt on; but she'd already seen the scars.

"Don't touch me!" Sam tried for rage but the tear and snot down her face belied her feelings. She was having trouble finding air. Ange stood slowly, looking Sam in the eyes and wrapped her in a hug. She stiffened, trying to suck in more air and panicking. After a moment she all but collapsed in Angela's arms, not bothering to hold back her sobs any longer.

Ange rubbed her back and murmured softly over and over, "I know you. I know you. I know you."


	8. Chapter 8

"I'm pretty sure you should be a couple states away by now." Sam looked up from the table and smiled.

"Yeah well plans changed. I got offered this fabulous new living arrangement, wardrobe and meals included. How could I pass that up?" Max's teasing smile faded slightly and he sat down across from her.

"I'm not used to being on this side of the visitor's table. I'm getting this whole deja-vu-but-not thing going." He sighed and looked her in the eye. "I told you to leave town, hell leave the state. What the hell were you thinking? I would've given you the money."

"That's exactly why I didn't ask. What happens if they traced it to you? I'm not about to pull anyone else into this."

"Really? So you think they're going to believe you suddenly became a master in the art of breaking and entering and got into a closed federal building yourself? Because that was quite a performance."

"They can believe anything they want. Without proof they can't touch you. You know that better than me." She raised her eyebrows and he grinned at her.

"Okay Okay! Next topic. I got you a lawyer, though apparently you've decided to shoot your mouth off to anyone who'll listen. What the hell was that all about? Trying to act your age all of a sudden?"

"He was pissing me off."

"Bullshit. If he was just pissing you off you would've kept your mouth shut, not given him exactly what he wanted." She pressed her lips together and considered him for a moment.

"It doesn't matter now. I should to go to jail, the charges don't particularly matter." He caught her meaning but decided to let that conversation wait for another day. He liked to be more informed before he laid his cards out. If she was going to continue to be stubborn he'd just find a way around her. Sometimes people couldn't see how to help themselves and he was forced to give them a little nudge in the right direction. Or shove as the case may be.

"Just promise me you'll meet with the lawyer I got you, and do what she tells you to do. She's trying to get you out on bail; she'll come see you when she knows either way." She sat up straight at that, her eyes going wide.

"Bail? What are you talking about? I'm a runaway identity thief. That's practically the definition of a flight risk."

"Maybe. But you're also a minor and with your puppy dog eyes you might have a shot. Course it would've been helpful if you didn't just confess to murdering a twelve year old."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

This case was hard for everyone and it was throwing off the dynamics of the whole group. He could see the way they were dividing over it. More specifically over Sam... Elizabeth. Ange and he guessed Max were way on one side, backing her 110% even though he could see she didn't want anything to do with their help. Sweets, and himself if he was honest, were trying to take a step back to see where the cards fell; reevaluating things. He suspected that Bones was going to fall way on the other side of their fun little chasm. Outwardly at least she wanted to write the whole thing off and move on like it'd never happened. He knew Bones had to roll it around in her mind in order for her to understand her feelings and to be able to control her reactions. As much as it caused him pain to watch her obsess, or pretend not to think about it, he knew he had to step back and allow her to do it. It helped that they had something official to do now. Going back over to Mrs. Bakerson's house to interview the kids, especially Ryan, gave him the excuse he needed to hunt her down at the Jeffersonian. He hadn't bothered to check her house, the lab was the only place she'd want to be when everything else in her world went chaotic on her.

Booth shoved open the double doors into the darkened lab of the Jeffersonian. The darkness made him pause for a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust and a second guessing himself. It was deserted in here, but it **was **seven o'clock on a Saturday. He was annoyed, though not surprised, that she was ignoring his phone calls, but it was exactly the reason he felt the need to pick her up instead of doing the interviews himself. Whenever he wasn't able to get in touch with her immediately part of him always went into a panic. Was she sick? Hurt? Pissed? It may sound paranoid but with her history of getting into trouble he felt completely justified in his paranoia. In this case he bet she was just hiding, but he never seemed to be able to stop his imagination from running wild until he could physically see her.

His eyes finally adjusted to the point that he was confident he wasn't going to trip over some random piece of squint science and knock himself unconscious. As he moved through the lab he saw a light beaming from the direction of her office. He stuck his head inside to check but he was pretty sure he knew where she'd be. It's where he always knew to find her when she was upset and trying to bury it with work. A mussed blanket and pillow were strewn across the couch, she'd probably slept here, or more likely had just lain there awake for twenty minutes before giving up.

He walked quietly up to the entrance of Limbo and watched her from the doorway. The scene before him had taken place maybe a hundred times in the six years they'd been working together but it didn't make her any less mesmerizing. There's just something about watching her when she was so focused on what she was doing, he couldn't even explain it to himself. Limbo might be her way of losing herself but being with her was his. The tension that had settled between his shoulders eased as he watched her familiar routine. Her hair was twisted up in a messy ponytail, an afterthought, not for style but convenience. Her lab coat was unbuttoned and he could see she was still wearing yesterday's clothes.

"Sleeping here is one thing Bones, but tell me you've at least eaten something since yesterday." The look she gave him told him that one, she hadn't eaten and two, she felt it was none of his business. Message received and ignored. "C'mon we'll grab something to eat on the way, I'm starving." He could tell she wanted to argue and stay locked in Limbo but her curiosity got the best of her.

"Where are we going?"

He smiled, knowing he had her. He turned and began walking out of the lab, leaving her staring after him, frustrated as hell. "C'mon Bones get a move on!" As much as he knew it annoyed her, she followed all the same.

He tried to update her on Sam's situation on the way to the Bakerson's but she sharply suggested they focus on the task at hand and leave **Elizabeth's** case to the Identity Theft division. They were going to have to have it out later but for now she was right, they should focus on the upcoming interviews.

"We're gonna have to use kid gloves on this one Bones. I think Ryan thinks he knows something but I don't think he's sure if he wants to trust us yet."

"I'm perfectly capable of talking to children Booth." Her tone of voice held none of the elements of their usual banter, and he wisely decided to spend the rest of the trip in silence. Not that silence made it any more comfortable in the car, he'd actually rather them be full on screaming at each other than both of them sitting here and choking on their words. All this tension was making him itch. He pressed harder on the gas pedal and wished that their destination was closer.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVv

Ryan looked exhausted. His eyes were red and swollen, somewhat diminishing the obstinate attitude he was trying to give off. Booth was sure Ryan knew something but she couldn't imagine him trusting either of them enough to open up. He looked like he hated the world, and right now she couldn't really blame him.

Booth made no move to coddle the boy, apparently having decided to treat him like a man. Booth's expression held no pity, only a polite respect. She was always slightly in awe of the way he could read people, sometimes she wished he had been on the case when her parents had disappeared so long ago. The cops she'd interacted with back then had been full of pats on her head and long sad looks. It had driven her crazy. They hadn't known a thing about her or her family but they'd made their minds up as soon as they'd gotten the call. It took a long time working with Booth to make her see that some people working in law enforcement actually sought the **truth** of things, not just the easy answers or the good story. She trusted his judgment in some matters more than she trusted her own.

"Okay Ryan I need to ask you a few questions about Tyler. Do you know anyone who might've wanted to hurt him? Maybe he'd been fighting with someone?"

Ryan shook his head. "He only fought with Jamal and Alex when they broke one of his new games."

"Your younger foster brothers? I bet that got him mad."

He shrugged. "Not really, he was only mad for a little bit before he caught himself. I woulda tackled 'em both but Ty just said it wasn't important and took 'em both out back to play on the tire swing."

"That was pretty nice of him."

"Yeah. He used to fight all the time when we were kids," Booth hid a smile. "But I guess Liz yelled at him or something because after they started talking he just stopped."

"Did you ever meet Liz?"

"No but she must've been really hot cause she had Ty whipped."

Brennan sat up straight, alarmed. "Liz whipped him?" Booth chuckled under his breath and Ryan looked at her like she was insane. Apparently that was some pop culture reference she misunderstood. Again.

Booth leaned in to her and murmured, "He means Tyler did everything Liz told him to do."

"What kind of stuff did she tell him to do?"

"You know. Mom stuff. Don't hang out with bad kids. Study, do your homework, don't fight, don't run away. He started ragging on me to do the same stuff! Looked freaking boring to me but whatever." He feigned nonchalance but even she could tell he was really missing Tyler.

"Did you ever get mad that he was acting differently?"

"Yeah at first because he stopped doing everything we used to do. He was picking his girlfriend over me- it's totally against the rules ya know? Bros before hoes." Booth raised his eyebrows at him and Ryan colored instantly making him look even younger.

"Ryan, did Tyler say anything about where he was going or who he was seeing the last time you saw him?" His demeanor changed immediately. He started squirming in his chair and avoided their eyes. "Look I know you don't want to get anyone in trouble but we really need to talk with whoever he was supposed to meet." Ryan stared hard at the table clenching his jaw and he suddenly reminded her very much of Booth. He often did the same thing when he was upset or angry. She knew Booth had had a hard childhood, it was one of the things they actually had in common, but she hoped he'd never looked as tortured and hopeless as the small boy in front of her did now. Brennan didn't know if it was because of Ryan himself or the comparison to Booth but for the first time in days her heart softened and she allowed the emotion through. She stood from her chair, moved across the room and sat down next to him on the couch, their bodies touching from knee to shoulder. She didn't say anything or try to hold him but he visibly relaxed. He was trying valiantly not to cry. When he began to speak it was so soft that even though she was next to him she had to strain to hear.

"There's these kids at school." He paused for a long time but neither of them tried to rush him. He continued speaking directly into his lap. "They wanted me to help them and I didn't think it was a big deal so I told them I would. But then I told Ty and he got really pissed. I told him I had to but he just kept saying he'd talk to them."

Now she put her hand on his knee. "What were you supposed to help them with?" He shifted uncomfortably in the chair looking more guilty than before.

"I just wanted to hang out with them. Ty told me not to but… They wanted to see if I was cool enough so they let me be their lookout." She didn't know exactly what being a lookout entailed but it made her uneasy. What did ten year old boys need a lookout for? What were these kids into?

"How old were these boys?"

He shrugged. "Ty's grade but they're a lot bigger. I think they flunked a lot."

"I need to know their names Ryan."

Fear ran across his face and she could tell he'd rather be anywhere in the world other than sitting here talking to them. She squeezed his leg and spoke softly to him.

"We won't tell them you told us. I promise." She held his eyes until he saw the truth in her words.

"Theres Little T, Kevin, and A.J..

"Do you know anyone's last name? Or Little T's real name?"

"No. No one calls 'em anything cept that."

"Okay Ryan I think that's all we need for today. You helped us out a lot. You have my number in case you remember anything or if you just want to talk okay?"

Ryan didn't look at all relieved to be finished with their conversation, he looked pretty distinctly more miserable than when they'd arrived.

**A/N.. Maybe you can tell from the delays but I'm having a hard time writing- severe writer's block. If any one has any ideas on what they'd like to see happen or what tey'd like me to focus on next let me know. Sam, Tyler's case, BB?? Input is good :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N The end of this chapter gets all angsty so if you're not in the mood- you're at least forewarned... and oh yea,,, i own nothing ;)**

This whole thing was just cataclysmically lame. Okay, maybe cataclysmic was an exaggeration; but not by much. Was he really so out of touch with his own peer group that he couldn't notice when a sixteen year old was trying to pass for twenty? And a hot twenty besides. He shivered and tried to dislodge the thoughts he'd made of her in passing. He felt like some nasty old wrinkled dude. He'd be forever grateful that he'd been involved with Daisy and hadn't been tempted to make a fool, or a criminal, of himself and ask Sam out. That was just a hundred ways of wrong there.

He sat in his office pouring over the Weston case file trying to nail down a profile he was comfortable with, something that would help him work with Sam. Their mandatory bi-weekly sessions (at his request) would start as soon as Sam was out on bail and in the state system, which should be within the next forty-eight hours.

One might think it helped that he'd been a ward of the state as a child, that it might help her to open up a little- though his experiences were most likely the polar opposite of hers. He'd been placed almost immediately with a wonderful couple who'd supported and loved him the rest of their lives. Flipping through her case file, the sheer volume of homes she'd been in meant, for one reason or another, she'd had a difficult time in foster care. More likely closer to Dr. Brennan's experiences than his own. He sincerely hoped that wasn't the case. He'd been working with Dr. Brennan for a long time and she was still wicked closed down about that time of her life. And not everyone had the admirable but scary will power she seemed to possess. But judging from what he saw in the interrogation he was pretty sure that's where this whole thing was going to end up.

Tyler Weston had been placed with a family almost immediately after the deaths of their parents in 2001 and had been moved only twice more, the last of which lasting from the age of eight up until his death. Of the pair he'd have been the one most likely to leave the system unscathed; it seemed to have been working for him as it was meant to. Elizabeth had entered the system at eight years old; an eight year old would experience the loss of her parents on a much deeper level than a four year old, most likely lashing out and having behavioral problems, making her difficult to place. She'd changed not only homes but caseworkers so often that she'd probably never been able to learn anyone's names, let alone trust them. She'd been to ten homes in about eight years- a few times she was removed after her school's staff suspected abuse or neglect though Elizabeth never complained or confirmed any of the allegations. Other homes she was removed because of a wide range of behavior problems up until her last two placements. In the Griffin house things quieted down for her. The case worker noted she seemed happy, she attained high honors at her high school, and she even joined after school activities and talked of college plans.

Around her fifteenth month with the Griffins, they were suddenly unable to care for her, for reasons unknown. She was moved the Craven's, her final foster home where she lasted seven months before disappearing. There was nothing in the file to indicate why, after putting up with all the other homes she ran from this particular one. Was it because she'd been happy at the Griffins? Was it a matter of her age? She wasn't likely to have told anyone the details of her life then, it would've voided the life she tried to create for herself now. The life she'd done amazingly well surviving in. Fake ID's, bank accounts, Social Security numbers… considering the complexities of creating a completely viable persona it was pretty unbelievable that a sixteen year old pulled it off on her own.

There **was** someone who knew **exactly** what it took to become someone else. He called the man to arrange a meeting and took a few moments to mentally prepare himself for it. Conversations with him tended to be more like a sparing match. In the end he'd only get the information he wanted if he was respected and deemed trustworthy. He was one of those already, or at least he hoped.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"Young Mr. Sweets. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Actually it's Doctor but you already knew that."

"Ah yes I remember now. You called me a sociopath."

"Once again, I said 'charming sociopath." Max grinned. The kid had more balls than the last time he'd talked to him.

"Fair enough. What can I do for you Doc?"

Sweets took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "I know you and Sam became close when you worked together and I'd like to know a little more about her circumstances before coming to the Jeffersonian." Max obviously wasn't surprised but he wasn't exactly forthcoming either.

"You want to satisfy your curiosity Doc you're gonna have to ask her."

"It's not a question of curiosity. I need to know so I can decide the best way to help her. Right now she's drowning in her life; no matter the outcome of the trials she's going to need help to set it right again." Max considered him and his argument a few moments, at least he was hearing him out.

"I appreciate what you're trying to do Doc I really do. But this kid doesn't trust easily, I'm not gonna be one more person she can't depend on. I'll tell you this though, she's a good kid- better than most I think."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at the identity she created for herself. When she chose to become Samantha Kline she had to work. She didn't just steal someone's numbers and raid their accounts. She tested for her GED, she opened a bank account with her own money and was working her way through college. Samantha Kline is probably thrilled with the way her life looks on paper right now, probably wants to send a thank you card." He walked away without another word and left Sweets to digest his information.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

She came in looking, if possible, both unsure of herself and incredibly determined. She looked much younger, was it only because he knew her age? Did she notice how differently she carried herself now? He'd consciously decided to refer to her as 'Sam' as that's what she seemed to prefer. Though he was very interested as to why she'd had such an adverse reaction to her given name in the interrogation.

"Hi Sam take a seat." He gestured to the chairs across from his and sat in his own. Despite the warmth of his office she kept her winter coat on but turned it around so the front was open at her back and her arms were through the holes. She held her book bag in front of her like a shield and took in the room for a few long moments, having never been to his office before.

With first time patients he usually opened with the classic, if a slightly clichéd, 'Tell me why you're here' or some similar variation but he knew from the personality profile he'd managed to work up that that particular phrase would be far to vague for his purposes- and she'd most likely see it as condescending.

Instead when it was clear she was ready to begin he stayed silent. He didn't want to make this a contest of wills- he had no doubts that she would win on that front every time. She hadn't known what to expect but silence clearly wasn't it. It had to opposite effect he'd intended, as she crossed her arms over her chest he could almost see her walls going up. _So much for the whole _Good Will Hunting _scenario. _Switching tactics he decided to just be straightforward.

"We're going to start having bi-weekly sessions here, probably through your trial as a condition on your bail. We won't go into anything today unless you want to." He paused to give her a change to break in but she just raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah I figured you could just use some time to chill out. You've got about an hour then Angela and I will drive you to your foster placement." At this she looked incredibly uninterested other than in her means of transportation.

"Why you and Ange? Why not a caseworker or a cop or something?"

"We- uh thought it would be easier for you."

"You mean Ange threatened to kick your ass." Blush crept up the sides of his neck and he laughed.

"Yeah that too. She's a little intense." His laughter seemed to put her more at ease and she pulled her legs under her indian style, wincing before pulling her left leg back out from under her.

"My gift from the state isn't all that comfortable, pain in the ass already and I've had it on for an hour."

"They gave you a tracking device? Good. I won't have to worry about hunting you down if you miss a session."

"Funny shrink boy, funny. You know you shouldn't screw with me, I could be a kiddie killer for all you know." He took in the challenging smirk on her face and answered it with a smile. He could see why she and Max had gotten along so well. He was thrilled that they were making progress.

"I'm not worried. Daisy's got my back. She's wicked feisty."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

We sat in his office for the next forty-five minutes playing Checkers of all things. It was so normal that it felt like a dream. Everything was gone, I had nothing left to stand on and I was playing board games with an endearingly geeky psychologist. I mean really. Against my better judgment I did relax. I knew that later I'd need to change, to be someone else once I got to the girl's home, which was only a stop before going to jail. I confessed about fifty times to anyone who'd listen, (royally pissing off my lawyer) which has got to speed up the court process right? All this talk about a trial was driving me nuts. I didn't need one; didn't want one. I was guilty of at the very least the crimes they charged me with and I needed to go to jail. I knew who to be in a group home and she was similar to who I had to be in jail. Out here waiting, seeing people I cared about, and who, for the time being cared about Sam, that was the confusing part. I desperately wanted to curl up inside myself and cease to exist. The second I saw his shoes on that table it was over. I switched over to my girl-on-the-run autopilot and did what I had to do: Leaving his name, getting money, and getting out of town. But Tyler doesn't get a new life- doesn't get to start over; neither should I. When I'm finally locked up after all the legal BS is finished I can just concentrate on surviving. Turn everything else off and just… be. I could shut out this thing in my chest that was tearing me apart inside. It would all just disappear.

Until then I would have to deal. Play the normal seventeen year old foster kid. Living, breathing, and communicating.

Ange knocked on the door before coming in and smiling brightly. "Hey Sweetie! Ready to go? I want to stop by the diner for lunch before we drop you off, is that okay?" I felt a rush of warmth for my friend and smiled my agreement. We all made it through lunch unscathed. Making the requisite small talk hadn't been too difficult. Ange knew me well enough to sense when a change of subject was needed and awkward silences were kept to a minimum. I did wonder aloud if I'd have to go back to high school, (which really would've been pushing it) since technically I'd passed my G.E.D.. Ange looked a little wistful at the thought of high school but Sweets blanched and I knew he'd try to help me out. Foster care and prisons I can deal with, high school was another story.

Lunch had taken too long and Sweets had appointments with some crazies to keep so Ange and I rode alone to the girl's home. After a few missed turns and Angela arguing with the GPS I began to recognize the neighborhood around me. Suddenly I could hear my heart beating and my arms went numb. I cleared my throat and tried to sound normal.

"Ange where are we going? The girl's home is on the other side of town."

"Hon I'm sorry I thought you knew. They were out of beds there so you're going to a private foster home with a family." I tried to breathe slowly and sound uninterested. I was thankful her attention was focused on the directions instead of me. She could always read me like a book.

"Who's the family?"

"I can't remember the name exactly. Reminded me of a bird. Raven or something like that." She pulled up in front of the house sighing in relief. "I thought we'd miss your first curfew and the FBI would come flying in." She grinned at me but it didn't reach her eyes. I tried to reassure her but I doubt it was very convincing. I was trying to keep the bile in my stomach and the air in my lungs. I knew this house.

I thought for a second about telling Ange to hit the gas, to drive somewhere away from here. But then I thought of Ty lying on a table in the lab and suddenly it seemed fitting that I was back in this place.

He opened the door and came out onto the porch grinning like He'd won the lottery. I grabbed my bag and walked as steadily as possible toward the house. It was like walking through cement. Everything inside me was screaming. My adrenaline was pumping hard, begging me to turn and beat it in the opposite direction. He had a conversation with Angela that I didn't hear. He came around behind me, His giant hand encircling that back of my neck and squeezing. _Oh. _This was familiar. My body remembered this. In a split second everything quieted down and I went into myself. I was aware enough to hug Angela goodbye and see the concern across her face. I encouraged her to go, to leave me where I belonged. We watched her get into her car and drive away before He steered me by my neck into the house and closed the door behind us.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N- This chapter deals with assualt/abuse... Doesn't go in to a ton of detail but be forewarned you may want to skip it.**

**As usual I don't own anything**

Snapping the phone shut on Charlie he refocused his attention to the table in enough time to catch Bones stealing a fry from his plate. He was careful not to let it show on his face but it warmed him to see that she was feeling more like herself.

"Charlie called the school and they knew the three boys right off the bat, which means they probably spend a lot of time in the principle's office. He's going to get them down to Hoover and we can all have a nice little chat." She nodded thoughtfully and popped another of his fries into her mouth.

"Did they say if they're involved with gang activities or just exhibiting typical adolescent male behaviors?"

"Charlie said they weren't positive but they think the kids are just wannabe thugs." Of course wannabes could be just as dangerous as actual gang members, sometimes more so if they felt they had something to prove. It was going to take a while to round up the kids, parents, and probably a couple lawyers so they had some time to kill before they had to get over there. At least they were already together and he didn't have to come up with an excuse to pick her up. Now he just had to come up with something for them to do that took her mind off the case but she would think was important enough to spend time doing. It was like walking a tightrope with her sometimes, but it kept him on his toes.

"She must have a fairly high IQ in order to pull it all off without help." His mind tried to catch up and raced to a thousand different things before finally landing on Sam.

"Yeah I know a lot of fully grown adults that couldn't have pulled that off. No wonder she fit in so well with the squints." She got quiet again and moved her salad around her plate. "Talk to me Bones."

"She could've told me. I mean- I'm trustworthy person aren't I? The government certainly thinks I am, I have a higher security clearance than you do!" He already knew that fun little fact and decided to let it pass without comment.

"Bones think about it. who did you trust when you were seventeen?" She glanced at the table and back at him. "And if somehow you'd been able to get yourself out of foster care but staying out meant you had to keep quiet and be completely self reliant would you really tell the FBI?"

"I'm not FBI you are."

"You're close enough. I'm surprised she latched on to all of you the way she did, I mean she was really playing with fire there. You all don't miss much."

"We missed this."

"She had to be pretty desperate to guard herself that well. I mean think about it, that's a long time to keep something locked down from the people you see everyday. I mean, I think the kid was just trying to start over."

"You don't think we all just fell for a con? That we weren't just marks to her?"

"No I don't. I think she really connected with all of you. I mean what did she get out of all of this except for your relationships? She never asked for money, housing, any of that. The only thing I ever heard her begging for was to hear more of Angela's techno-babble."

Brennan grinned, "That and for someone to split her cheese fries. Course Ange never let her beg for long." She paused and she grabbed another fry from his plate. He was going to have to order a second round soon. "Have you heard anything from her?"

"No, but I know she's been meeting with Sweets. It's a mandatory part of her bail."

"Sounds familiar."

"I wonder if he has her doing trust exercises yet."

She grinned at him and shook her head groaning, "Oh god no one deserves that!"

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

His office phone rang about five minutes before Sam was due to walk in for her first appointment. He said a quick prayer that it was nothing urgent enough to pull him out of their session and picked up the phone.

"Hey Sweets, I know I'm supposed to be on my way down there but would you mind if we did this one over the phone?" He tried to weigh the pros and cons of such an arrangement- her comfort level versus his being able to see and read her body language. He was about to suggest they reschedule for the next day when she broke in, "Really this is for your protection. I've got some kind of rash all over me. They're telling me it's the chicken pox but I'm pretty sure it's Ebola."

"Chicken pox?" He whistled, "That's nasty stuff. I had it when I was eight and I can still feel the itching. Oatmeal baths saved my life, I highly recommend them. "

She snorted, "Yeah I'll keep that in mind."

"How are you settling in with your foster family?"

"It's where I need to be right now."

Well that was a non-answer. "I was hoping that it would more fitting for you to be there rather than a group home."

"You told them to send me here?"

"I recommended it yes, it was ultimately up to your caseworker."

She went quiet then whispered, "Does Angela know?" Her voice sounded small and far away. His instincts went on alert and he tried to guess what she was getting at. As far as he knew Angela knew everything he did, he'd bet she knew a lot more than him, the women had spent a lot of time together and Angela was pretty perceptive. He couldn't come up with anything Sam would be concerned about.

"What do you mean?"

"Does she know where I am?" Now he was really confused. Maybe she was sicker than he'd thought. High fevers were often associated with the chicken pox.

"Yeah Sam. Angela knows where you are." For the rest of the call she was very quiet, answering his questions as succinctly as possible, not expanding on anything. Frustrated and concerned for her physical health he ended the session early, telling her to get some rest. He'd spend the next forty-five minutes trying to come up with the specific point in their conversation when her personality had shifted from the Sam he was familiar with to someone smaller, and what had triggered it. Having reached no conclusion, his frustration level was fairly high when his phone rang and pulled him from his thoughts. At least now he'd have something to distract him for a bit.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Sweets was there by the time they arrived at the Federal building. Booth had called him from the diner so he could go ahead and get a feel for the boys and their group dynamic. The boys were left together in an interrogation room while their parents were taken to another room to fill out 'paperwork'. Sweets looked pretty pleased with himself when they greeted him in the observation room and she assumed he'd seen something he considered to be valuable.

"Okay Sweets whaddya got before I separate them?"

"Kevin, the oldest, is definitely the leader. The way he's posturing tells me that he feels as though the boys aren't as under his control as he'd thought. He thinks of this whole situation as a kind of game. From their interactions with each other I don't think he's the one that pulled the trigger, he'd have used the shooting to test the loyalties of one of the younger boys. I think Tim, Little T, is going to be your weak link but A.J.'s pretty shaken up as well."

"A.J.'s father owns the same kind of shotgun that killed Tyler but he never taught him how to use it. Said he didn't think A.J. was mature enough to handle the responsibility yet."

"Well he'd be right."

"The guys are headed to his house with a warrant now to pick it up and test it. The dad says it hasn't been fired or handled recently so we'll run it for GSR and fingerprints and see what pops up."

"Assuming it was A.J. who brought the gun to the warehouse I'd suggest you start with questioning Tim." Booth nodded his head in agreement but Brennan was confused.

"Wait why? We have more evidence on A.J. why not use it to go hard on him?" Sweets opened his mouth to say something but Booth cut him off.

"Because Bones, if Kevin wanted to make sure the boys were as deep into this as possible he'd make one kid bring the weapon and the other one be the shooter. Passes the blame around. Plus Little T is looking pretty panicked in there." It made sense though she wasn't sure a thirteen year old boy could be that calculating and malicious. It didn't bode well for his future outside of a corrections facility.

They were feeling fairly confident about the interviews until their lawyers showed up. Every single kid had their own personal lawyer sitting with them in the room and telling them to shut up if asked anything past their names. Apparently Kevin's father was intimately familiar with the Justice System and had procured representation for the three boys. She understood the need for lawyers and the assurance of a fair trial, but this was aggravating. They were so close. Booth assured her that once the forensic team came back with results on the shotgun they'd have a lot more leverage to work with, but it took all she had not to physically threaten Kevin when he smirked at them in the hallway. He wrapped his arms around the shoulders of 'his boys' and squeezed, causing A.J. to shrink back and Tim to blanch and pale. Frankly she was a little worried about the younger boys' safety, they were obviously buckling under the pressure, something Kevin would surely not tolerate. At the moment though, he steered his boys through the hallways grinning and boasting of their freedom. He may be thirteen, but he made her feel uneasy… and she really, really wanted to poke him in the eye.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

_Just hold on. It'll be over soon. Go somewhere else. Anywhere but here._ Again and again and again my name is whispered in the darkness and I hate it with every fiber of my being. The light shines under the door from the hallway and I could see if I wanted to; but I don't. I've seen Him before. The straps cut into my wrists even though I'm not fighting. He made them tight enough to cut off my blood supply if I try to rest them at my sides. I hold them over my head, changing positions when I can so that my shoulders can rest. He decided that even though I'm locked in my room, it was best if I was always strapped in. Idle hands and all that. Now that He's done He wants to make sure I'm awake for what comes next.

I took too long to finish my chores today. Yesterday I was done too quickly and He accused me of not doing them properly. I know it really doesn't matter why, every night it's the same, but for some reason I try to do things differently every day. Tomorrow He'll be happy with me, _tomorrow _He'll let me sleep through the night. I heard Him yelling at the TV and knew his favorite football team had lost badly. I tried to prepare myself as I heard Him stumbling up the stairs. Hopefully He'd had a lot to drink and this wouldn't last long. Football nights usually meant that He'd drink enough that his abuse was softer than normal, there was no weight behind it because He was busy trying to keep his balance. Of course being drunk also meant the line He created in his head between an appropriate punishment and killing me could get pretty blurry. It was a fine line to hope for.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Considering chicken pox lasted a good eight to ten days, Sweets wasn't expecting to see Sam for their second session and instead waited patiently by the phone. Sure enough she called right on time.

"Hey Sam how are you?"

He heard her exhale before she spoke. "Just tired Sweets. System's working me." Her flat affect spoke more than her words.

"You don't sound like you're feeling any better."

"No I think I need to skip today. I've got stuff I need to do and I don't have the energy to do both today."

"Did you go to the doctor's? Do you need me to talk to your foster parents?"

Her voice suddenly found a bit of strength and her words were slightly cold. "No Sweets you've done enough. Let's just reschedule this okay?"

"Not a problem, we'll just wait until next week. You get some sleep Sam alright?"

He'd thought for a second she'd fallen asleep on the line until he heard her whisper, "It's Elizabeth" before she hung up the phone. _Interesting_. His heart went out to her, nothing was as isolating as being sick and surrounded by strangers. Her foster family seemed vigilant enough though, they wouldn't allow Angela to visit even though she'd had the chicken pox before, they were afraid of her spreading it to others.

He looked through his sorely empty patient file and realized he didn't have the name of the family she'd been placed with. DCFS was probably closed by now and he had to see Angela anyway so he packed up his things to head over to the Jeffersonian.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVv

Almost everyone was together for the first time in days, crowded in her office, waiting for news on the shotgun. She looked around at their faces and knew that if this case didn't close soon- they weren't going to be able to close it at all. No one wanted to admit to it but they were all clinging to the edge this side of exhaustion. Vincent was clearly having trouble staying focused on anything, his eyes kept flicking to random things around the room, reminding her of an anxious, trembling Chihuahua. Hodgins had been pacing endlessly around the room until she'd called him to sit next to her on the couch. She'd settled his fidgeting with her hand on his thigh and he'd closed his hand around hers with a sheepish expression. Whatever happened, they calmed each other, which she knew meant more than either of them could admit at the moment but that was for another time. For now she took and gave her comfort where it was available.

It didn't take a genius (or maybe it took a non-genius) to see that Brennan and Booth were doing the same thing, if less obvious than Hodgins and herself. When one crossed the room, the other followed. When they sat, they positioned themselves close together. Always touching. She would tease them about it if impatience weren't the only thing coursing through her veins at the moment, or if she weren't trying to ignore the implication of her own version of their little dance.

She blew out a breath of frustration, "Where is Sweets? He called and said he'd be here an hour ago!"

"Ange it's only been ten minutes. Give the guy some times to get over here." She glared at him but squeezed his hand when he didn't buckle under her gaze.

"I know I know. I just really need to talk to him about Sam."

Booth looked over, "What about Sam? Did she say something?"

"No that's just it. The Cravens won't let me talk to her. They just keep saying she's sick. Plus that guy gave me a major case of the skeevies when I dropped her off."

"Sweets has talked to her though right? She'd have said if something was wrong."

"I guess. I just have a bad feeling and I want to hear it from him. At least until I can hear it from her." They lapsed into silence again for a few minutes before she heard the unmistakable sound of pent up Booth frustration. The man was practically growling.

"What is taking them so long! These kids barely knew how to shoot the gun let alone clean it! There's got to be evidence all over the freaking thing!" He charged to the other end of the room and hit the door frame. She waited for Brennan to cross the room to him or say something to calm him down. When she didn't Angela looked over and saw a familiar expression on her friend's face, an answer was just beyond her reach. Before she could ask, Sweets strode into her office and all her thoughts jumped to Sam.

"Sweets! God did you **crawl** here?" Hodgins laughed and squeezed her hand.

"No… parking was bad. And hello to you too Angela."

"Yeah yeah. Just tell me what's up with Sam."

"Angela I can't. It's Doctor/Patient Confidentiality."

"I don't care about details! I just want to know if she's all right." Booth's cell rang on the table and he dove for it. Sweets glanced at him, stuttering but refocused back on Angela.

"Honestly I'm not confident about her progress up to this point. Of course I've barely spoken with her since she's been sick."

Booth snapped his phone shut. "It's definitely been fired recently and there are two sets of fingerprints we can compare to the boys'. We just have to narrow the three to a shooter and we're good to go." Their day might be looking up but alarm bells were shooting through Angela's body.

"Sweets! Focus over here. You haven't talked to her? Since when?" He was clearly trying to participate in both conversations at once, the other seemed to be getting more interesting as Brennan walked quickly over to Booth filled with excitement. Sweets scooted closer to their conversation as Ange tried to drag him back to hers.

"Umm… I talked to her Ange… She's just sick. Said her immune system was really working her."

"Booth I know-" Sweets' words reached her and she whirled to him. "What did you say?"

Sweets stammered again, unsure of her meaning, "Sam's sick. Just the chicken pox though… She'll be fine."

"No. **Sam. **What **exactly** did Sam say?"

"Oh.. Umm.. That her system was.. working her." Brennan's face went white and she grabbed her keys from Ange's desk.

"Booth! I have to go. It was Tim, he's the shooter- he's got a bruise on his shoulder."

"How do you-"

"Just trust me! Ange come with me."

"Bones what's-"

"Just go Booth I'll explain later." She grabbed Ange's hand and pulled her out of the lab just ahead of Booth. They split off at their cars, the women in one and Booth in the other.

"Sweetie what's going on?"

"Drive to Sam Ange. She's in trouble." Heart in her throat, wishing she had sirens, Ange squealed out of the parking space and into traffic, hoping there was time.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

He used to be careful about where His abuse landed, but He seems to have gotten comfortable, which more than anything scares me. It's like He knows no ones going to come looking for me, if they did, no one would believe me now. He's a free man. He turned and grinned at me as he left the room, warning me that I had four hours until I had to wake up and begin another day. My chest burned as I struggled to breathe again, I was hoping He hadn't cracked another rib. I could feel my left eye beginning to swell shut and hoped the right would manage to stay open. I turned my head to the side as my nose kept bleeding. I didn't want to choke on it in my sleep. Exhaustion pulled back the pain and I feel immediately into the deep unconsciousness reserved for the sleep deprived. Four hours.

**A/N I'm thinking one more chapter should finish this thing up :) Thanks for reading! Please review if you have any thoughts/comments**


	11. Chapter 11

**Ok I lied... this isn't the last chapter. **

After what seemed like an eternity the women pulled up to the Craven house and scrambled out of the car.

"Why didn't we bring Booth along?"

"He's bound by the law," Brennan pulled out a gun from her glove compartment, checked it and shoved it in her jacket pocket. "I'm not."

"Jesus Brennan!"

"Stay in the car Angela."

"I can't help much in a fight Bren but I can sweet talk like a professional. So maybe you won't need the gun okay? Either way, you're not leaving me in this car."

"I'm not planning for a fight Angela, just expecting one. There's a difference." The women reached the front door and Angela made a move to knock and froze.

"We **are** planning on knocking right? Or did you just want to bust in?" Her attempt to lighten to mood fell flat and earned a glare from Brennan. They restrained themselves from pounding on the door and knocked the socially acceptable three times. Nothing happened.

"It is pretty late, maybe everyone's asleep."

"Well then they're going to have to wake up." Brennan reached in front of Angela and held the doorbell down obnoxiously.

"Yeah well that's sure to put them in a great mood!" The girls tensed as almost immediately they heard a male's voice yelling commands inside the house. He made his way downstairs toward the door, not bothering to dampen his anger at their late visit. He flung the door open, causing Angela to take a step back, as if making room for the man's anger. Brennan stood her ground and looked up at Craven, directly into his eyes.

"Where's Sam?" Confusion ratcheted his irritation up a few notches.

"Elizabeth. We're here to see Elizabeth." Not one to leave her friend standing alone, Angela resumed her place by her side.

Recognition flashed and he sneered at Angela, "You're the girl that dropped her off. You aren't government, which means you've got no right asking to see her."

"We're going to see her Mr. Craven." Brennan's voice was flat and cold, so sure of herself that for a second Craven hesitated.

"You're not from the government either, else you woulda flashed your badge around by now. I'm in charge of that…" A righteous confidence filled his face and he stepped closer to the women, towering over them and spitting his words in their faces like venom. "precious girl and **I **decide who she does and does not speak to."

Brennan stayed perfectly, unflinchingly still. "I suggest you step back Mr. Craven." He looked them both up and down, smirking, obviously unafraid of any threat they might pose him. This was really not going to end well. Surprisingly, Craven stepped back and out of their way, though his expression was far from welcoming, in fact it made Angela's skin crawl.

"No need to argue out in the cold, why don't you ladies just come join me in here?" Angela wasn't sure if Brennan's lack of hesitation meant she'd missed the psycho-stare or if she just planned to deal with it later. Angela followed a second later, wishing they'd thought to tell someone where they'd gone. Later she hoped she'd look back and think she had been overdramatic, but her gut told her that this was not a good man and this was not a good situation. She'd learned to rely on her gut and so she slipped her hand in her pocket unobtrusively and hit speed dial number one.

Brennan felt his eyes on her like he was an animal stalking his prey, but she wasn't any crippled gazelle. She prepared herself but didn't act; as long as he was being outwardly civil, she would do the same. She could feel Angela nervous but steady at her back. In some small part of her brain she was impressed with her friend, she was more courageous than anyone gave her credit for.

Angela spoke firmly, "We drove all the way out here to North Ridge. We just want to see Elizabeth."

He feigned surprise, "Oh! You're more than welcome to go upstairs. Follow me." Without a glance back he climbed the stairs, sure that they'd follow. And they did.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Confusion gave way to comprehension and moved quickly on to panic as Jack listened to the conversation on the other end of the phone. Switching his phone to mute Jack ran across the lab towards Cam's office.

"Shit shit shit shit! Not good not good!" It wasn't the words he was hearing that were alarming him, it was the way they were spoken. As soon as he heard Angela tell him where she was he knew this wasn't just another 'pocket dialing' mishap. He knew her well enough to know that tone of voice. Whatever was happening, this wasn't a game. He skidded into Cam's office, not bothering to knock or apologize for the interruption.

"Cam! Call Booth! Tell him Ange and Dr. Brennan went to see Sam. Something's wrong. Get him over there!" He didn't leave her time for questions before he ran back out of her office and to his work station. He slipped his ear piece in and grabbed his keys, not bothering with a coat despite the freezing weather. _Thank god they took Dr. Brennan's car. _He'd programmed Sam's new address in Angie's GPS himself, it should still be in the system. They'd long ago exchanged spare keys for convenience and safety, so all he had to do was push her panic button in random directions until he found her car. He was concentrating so hard on getting to her that the soft sounds in his ear became white noise. As soon as he started her car that white noise tripled in volume and the blood in his veins turned to ice.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Craven stopped abruptly at the top of the stairs, expertly herding the women into the hall corner before they'd even realized it. He was well practiced in controlling people.

Angela tried to sound impatient, even snotty, but it came off as thin and breathless. "We're still waiting to see Elizabeth here."

He laughed low in his throat, "Who said you could see her? I said you were welcome to come upstairs, the wife's outta town and I could use some company." She was definitely going to need a shower after this.

Brennan had finally had enough, there was nothing she hated more than someone who thought they had the right to terrorize those who were weaker than they. Craven was in his element, she could see that clearly, but he'd underestimated her. She was no child cowering under his gaze. All of the men who'd made her life hell in the system, every one of them morphed into this one man. They'd all thought they were better than her, that they'd had the right to control her every move. She'd been young and helpless then but she wasn't anymore. She'd promised herself that she'd wait until Craven became physical first, she hadn't wanted to provoke any unnecessary violence. But as all the old faces and memories came flooding back, circling around this one man, she knew she'd have to break first. She was done taking their shit.

The only warning she gave him was the pain she inflicted. She threw all her weight into a good solid punch to his orbital area. He bent, cursing and roaring and she took advantage of his position, driving her knee into his solar plexus. It didn't wind him as she'd intended and he threw his shoulders into her like a linebacker, throwing her and pinning her against the wall. She was the one without air now and she slid down the wall gasping for oxygen.

He stumbled over her, rage clear in his eyes as he regained his bearings. He focused the intensity of that rage on her, pulling her off the floor and onto her feet. She could see her face reflected in his eyes, black with hate. He backhanded her, striking across her cheekbone and stunning her momentarily. Only his grip on her shoulders kept her on her feet. He wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed. Immediately the little air she had was cut off, she tried to think through her panic and desperately brought her feet against the wall behind her, about to push off, hoping to throw him into the opposite wall. Before she could act she heard a dull thunk and suddenly the pressure on her throat was gone and Craven lay crumpled on the floor.

She sunk low again, trying to breathe deeply and stared wide eyed at Angela, who was standing over Craven, chest heaving and wielding a purse.

"Angela….What is in…. your purse!?" Ange's attention snapped back to her friend and helped her up from the floor, checking her over for injuries. When she was satisfied she stepped back and grinned triumphantly.

"It's a brick. Every girl should have one."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"Dammit!" Booth hung up on Cam and threw his phone onto the passenger seat of his SUV. He barely checked the traffic before he flipped on his lights and pulled a highly illegal, yet practically trademark screeching U-turn and raced toward the Craven house. _What the hell were they thinking!? _He'd been right next to them, right freaking next to them when they decided to go off half cocked and play Thelma and Louise. _How about a little heads up?_ All he wanted to do when he saw her he wanted to shake some freaking sense into her. Didn't she know how dangerous this could be? Didn't she know he would've gone with her? Protected her? God he loved her strength and her fearlessness but right now, right now he wished she was the kind of woman that stayed at home and let the men handle the scary stuff.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

They'd heard no noises coming from any other part of the house the entire time they'd been there, which wasn't reassuring in the slightest. Brennan and Angela began calling for Sam and cautiously searching the four rooms on the second floor. The door closest to them was the master bedroom, though from a cursory glance around it was apparent that Craven was the only one using the room. While the rest of the house was well kept, if bare, the master bedroom was a chaos of clothes, beer cans, magazines, and dirty clothes. It smelled like a frat house.

They searched quickly through the next room, which appeared to be the catch-all room, everything from fishing poles to broken chairs were thrown in piles throughout the room. It seemed like someone was trying to organize everything into piles of broken, worthless, and usable but the task was a long way from being complete. One of the rooms turned out to be a bathroom and so, with only one room left the girls paused and glanced at each other outside the door, preparing themselves for what may be on the other side.

As soon as they opened the door cold air crept up their arms, the temperature difference was so radical it was almost as if they'd stepped outside. The room was dark enough that the light from the hallway did little to illuminate its depths. Brennan began groping for a light switch on walls as Angela went further into the room, feeling as she went and waiting for her eyes to adjust. Brennan called out a warning when she found the light switch, both shutting their eyes against the now glaringly bright room.

The room was as bare as it was cold so it took them about a half a second to find what they were searching for, though it took a little longer for their minds to let them process what they were seeing. Angela gasped and stood rooted to the floor in the middle of the room while Brennan jumped into action. If they hadn't known it was Sam she would've been unrecognizable to them. Her face was grotesquely misshapen and her hair lay in limp greasy strands across her pillow. She was curled as tightly as possible into a fetal position, with only her clothes for warmth. The rope binding her hands together and to the headboard stretched painfully because she was lying on her side. After making sure she was breathing Brennan quickly undid the ropes but didn't move her arms, knowing first hand how painful it would be to move them for the first time. She knelt down to look into her face and check the nature of her injuries. Her left eye was completely swollen shut but her right eye stared listlessly out passed her, she wasn't seeing either of them. Brennan tried not to think about anything but Sam's physical trauma. That's what she could work with, that's what she could do. There was so much blood on her face that it was difficult to see where it originated from, though her nose was obviously broken.

"Is she…?"

"She's breathing. She's alive but we need to get her to a hospital."

Angela came up and knelt beside Brennan. "Oh god." She reached up to touch Sam, to offer comfort, but let her hand drop helplessly, afraid to hurt her.

"We need to call an ambulance and get her out of here."

"Jack!" She stood and dug her phone out of her pocket, "I called Hodgins while we were still downstairs. Jack? Thank god. Did you call the police?... Jack I'll see you soon okay? I need to go." Brennan only heard one side of the conversation but she was pretty sure she and Angela were going to hear about this later. "He's pretty upset, but after what he heard I'm surprised the he didn't call in the National Guard." Now that they were sure help was on the way they turned their attention back to Sam, who still hadn't acknowledged their presence. Brennan went to work examining the rest of Sam's body for injuries to see if it would be safe to move her.

"Sam? It's Angela and Dr. Brennan. You're all right now. Everything's going to be fine. Sweetie can you look at me?" Sam's eye slowly began to drag in Angela's direction, which proved she at least had the presence of mind to follow directions, but when her gaze stopped on Ange, there was no sign of recognition, she was still staring into nothingness.

"Ange help me get her up." Angela gingerly supported Sam's weight, sitting on the bed next to her as Brennan moved her legs. Sam's face turned a sickly shade of green as they moved her but nothing more than moans escaped her. Finally they arranged it so Sam was sitting up and leaning against Angela. Brennan pulled Sam's head between her knees, afraid the girl was going to pass out before they could get her out of there, but her face contorted in pain and she grabbed her ribs moaning.

"Your ribs are probably broken, breathe shallow breaths."

"What are you doing here?" Her face regained some of its color but she was slick with sweat even in the cold room. Whether she came around because of the pain or she had just needed time Brennan couldn't guess, but the sound of her voice sent relief thrumming through her body.

"What's it look like? We're getting you out of here." Sam managed to look confused even though she was still trying not to throw up while also breathing shallowly. She muttered something quietly that neither woman heard but before they could Sam tried to get off the bed by herself. Alarmed they grabbed a hold of her arms and tried to support her weight without hurting her more than necessary.

"Sam slow down okay? You're going to pass out and fall down the stairs if you push it."

"Easy for you to say, I haven't peed in a really really long time. We've gotta move people." Whatever they'd expected her to say it hadn't been that and it shocked a laugh out of them both. "I appreciate the help, but I've been up and doing chores all week. Getting up is a process but once I'm standing I'm pretty much good to go." Neither woman took her at her word or relaxed their grips on her arms. "Seriously. I'm good to go, you can relax your death grips." They complied but hovered close enough to catch her if she even looked like she couldn't make it. True to her word she made it to the bathroom, walking stiffly and slow, but walking all the same. As soon as she closed the door Ange glanced anxiously down the hallway at the massive lump that was Mr. Craven.

"I dropped my purse on the other side of him… I in no way want him to wake up and figure out where I live." She did _not_ want any late night visits from this asshole.

"I'll get it." Angela started to protest, afraid he was faking but Brennan interrupted her. "I can hear sirens, they'll be here any second, I'll be fine." Sure enough now that she was paying attention she heard the familiar wailing of the police cars. Even so Brennan walked guardedly around Craven, giving his arms as wide a berth as the hallway allowed. When she leaned down to pick up the purse Ange couldn't help but hold her breath. This was always the part in the movie where the killer wakes up and attacks. Brennan straightened up again unharmed and moved to step back over him when she paused, staring at his face. Disgust radiated from her and her foot seemed to move of its own volition, her snow boots connecting solidly with his groin. Ange's eyebrows climbed high when Brennan looked at her defensively.

"I thought he was regaining consciousness."

"Did I say anything?" Brennan was still stepping around Craven when Booth exploded through the front door, gun drawn.

"Bones!"

Brennan's eyes went wide and she blurted, "He was waking up!" Ange snorted laughter and Booth obviously had no idea what she was talking about. He took the stairs two at a time, radioing in the situation and beginning what was sure to be an extremely long lecture.

Ange quietly knocked on the bathroom door, opening it slowly when she got no response. The water was running in the sink and Sam was clutching a washcloth but she was just standing there staring into the mirror, oblivious to Angela's presence. Moving slowly so she wouldn't startle her, Ange took the washcloth out of her hands and began pressing it to her face. The blood from her nose was easily cleaned but a lot it was drying and beginning to crust, which was going to need a good scrubbing to come off. She stuck the cloth in the sink and watched the blood mingle with the water and turn pink before it swirled down the drain. She looked up, their eyes connecting briefly in the mirror and Sam nodded.

"Let's get out of here."


	12. Chapter 12

Last one, sorry for the delay... bloody thing didn't want to come together and I got wrapped up in reading other stories everytime I logged on. There are some really amazing writers on here!

Anyway... own nothing.... and I hope you enjoy

Chapter 12

By the time Jack showed up on scene Craven was being unceremoniously shoved in the back of a police cruiser. The DC police knew his face well enough that they allowed him into the house without a seconds thought, which was mildly disappointing since he could've used the opportunity to vent some of his adrenaline. The sounds and voices bounced unobstructed through the sparse house, he didn't bother to call out for anyone, it would've been pointless. He continued to make his way through the mass of uniforms until the crowd parted making room for a stretcher coming down the stairs.

Rage and relief swept through his body simultaneously as he got his first look at Sam. She was conscious though looking like she did, he'd probably wish for unconsciousness, or at least some heavy drugs. He walked over to them and caught Sam's eye. She waved at him sheepishly, rolling her eyes, or at least her good one, and gesturing to all the commotion surrounding her.

"Yeah… I have a feeling you're going to have to get used to people fussing over you for a while."

Angela pushed through the crowd from behind and quickly squeezed Sam's hand. "Damn right she is." He gathered her in his arms, kissing the top of her head and breathing in the scent that was unequivocally and irrevocably Angela, calming him from the inside out. She hugged him back just as fiercely, though he could feel her entire body shaking against him. He pulled back from her, holding his hands to either side of her face and she gave him a watery smile.

"I'm fine. Really." She glanced at Sam, "I'm going to ride in with Sam and keep her company. Could you- Are you going to the hospital?"

"Yeah of course." He kissed her forehead after one more quick hug. "I'll see you there."

----------- Later in the hospital

He had yet to see Angela but Brennan was in and out getting updates and annoying doctors. Sam had been in the hospital for a good hour, getting blood drawn, X-rayed, CTed, MRIed, and anything else Dr. Brennan had thought up and demanded. Ange had gone to keep Sam company and left Booth, Brennan, and himself alone in the waiting room. They'd put the call in to everyone else, promising updates and waiting for Sweets' arrival.

When Sweets finally came into the waiting area he was visibly upset and a sickly shade of green. Jack was a little concerned he'd chunk and make the waiting room all the more unbearable.

"The Cravens? That's where she was placed? I didn't know… If I'd looked at the report-"

Booth stood up and walked over to him. "Sweets relax. She's going to be okay. Nothing that the doctors can't handle." His words did nothing to assuage the guilt Sweets felt.

"I should've known. She was trying to tell me but I didn't listen. And listening is, like, my thing. I'm usually really good at it." He sunk low onto a waiting chair, looking all the more like a sullen teenager. The group was quiet for a moment when Jack spoke up.

"Actually Dr. Brennan… How did _you_ know?" Booth was desperately giving him the 'not now idiot' glare but Hodgins ignored him and powered through. "One minute Sweets is talking and the next you're running off like a bat outta hell." She did look a little uncomfortable and he felt a twinge of guilt but his curiosity won out.

"Something she said. When I was in foster care we had this kind of inside joke, not that it was very funny. If the home you were in was good, if you got proper food, clothing, and they treated you well then it was kind of like you were cheating. You were working the system. But if you weren't- if the situations were reversed, then the system was working you." Booth sat down next to her on the couch wanting to give her comfort but knowing she wouldn't take with a room full of people watching. He settled by surreptitiously touching her leg with his knee and locking eyes with her. For the two of them, that silent communication was enough.

Sweets sat up straight looking interested and like he wanted to add some psych speak to the conversation but Booth quelled him with a sharp glance. Thankfully he chose to let it drop but Jack had a feeling he'd bring it up in their future sessions and no amount of sniper hairy eyeballs would make him back down. He was sincerely relieved he wasn't going to be present for that particular meeting.

"Do we know how long she'll have to stay in the hospital?"

"A few days at least. As long as they don't find internal injuries they're just going to watch her concussion, get her hydrated, and keep her off her feet. They may have to do minor surgery to set some bones inside her wrists, but we'll have to wait for the scans to see."

"What do they know now?"

"Broken nose, stress fractures to both wrists from the restraints, three broken ribs, a fractured orbital, and a severe concussion." Jack had heard the litany of injuries earlier but hearing them again still made him queasy. Sweets didn't look any better.

When Angela strode through the double doors separating the waiting area from treatment rooms she was looking distinctly guilty.

"So… Did anyone think to call Max? She's asking for him." They glanced around the small circle, each expression now mirroring Angela's, except Sweets who took the opportunity to look seriously appalled. Shouldn't psychologists have more control over their facial expressions than that?

"Seriously? No one called him?"

"Relax Sweets. Bren you call him."

"What? Why me?"

"He's less likely to kill a blood relative. That means you." She grumbled about the faulty logic but pulled out her phone and made the call regardless, walking to the other end of the room for privacy. Booth pointedly turned the conversation away from Brennan and focused back on Angela.

"How's she holding up?"

"Good I think, considering. I keep waiting for her to turn into a hysterical mess but so far so good. At least now all the tests are done and she can rest a little while we wait for the results."

Booth spoke up again when Brennan rejoined the group. "We'll go check in on her for a minute, then Bones and I have somewhere we need to be." Before she could protest he cut her off, "I'm not letting you out of my sight and we've got a couple of boys to take into custody. Let's go."

VVVVVV

May

Dr. Brennan made it to work on time, though for the life of her she couldn't figure out how she'd pulled it off. She'd been up most of the night going over the Weston case, aside from her father's trial she'd never been so nervous to testify in her whole career. Though they'd only realized the connection well into the case, their relationship with Sam had almost allowed the defendants to go free because of the possibility of tampered evidence. The judge had finally ruled that a neutral party was to come in and examine everything and see if they came to the same conclusions her team had reached. Thankfully they had and the trial was allowed to precede, though every note and every utterance needed to be unimpeachable, they were all under more scrutiny than they were accustomed and they couldn't afford to let this case fall apart.

The ADA had cut a deal with Tim and AJ at Sweets' recommendation, in exchange for their testimony against Kevin. Since both were considered juveniles their sentences were fairly light, AJ receiving the shortest sentence for supplying the murder weapon; Tim would be in juvenile detention until his eighteenth birthday and both boys would get counseling. Months after the fact they were still shell shocked, neither of them had had the maturity or foresight to realize that they were changing their lives that day in the warehouse and not just playing gangsters.

Kevin, in light of various other charges the prosecution was able to collect, (drugs, weapons, etc.) and along with Sweets' recommendation, was potentially going to get the maximum sentence with the combined charges. He was also being tried as a juvenile so the maximum sentence possible would have him released when he was twenty-one.

They rarely testified in the juvenile court system and the speed at which the case came upon them was surprising. Craven's trial, conversely, wasn't set to begin for at least five months. With Sam's testimony (along with herself, Angela, and other foster children placed in his care over the years) his conviction was nearly a sure thing. Apparently Craven had always been abusive but he'd always been careful to do it with the most troubled kids, the ones no one would believe over a fine upstanding foster parent when it came down to he said she said. When his wife left him the little control he had over himself completely vanished. Thankfully he was awaiting trial on remand and behind bars but Brennan knew Sam was anxious to get that particular event behind her. Obviously the speed of the juvenile system would've been preferable.

The trial, or at least their part, wasn't until the middle of the afternoon and she could tell it was going to be a trying morning. She had a lot of work she needed to get done but she knew it would take all her powers of concentration to be able to focus on anything but the Weston case. She sighed and pulled up her emails, determined to at least make an attempt at being productive.

_Bones- lunch at noon ok? bring your files I want to go over everything again before court today… how's sam getting there? –B_

Well at least she wasn't the only one who was going to obsess over every little detail today. He didn't need a refresher any more than she did, he'd been at her apartment half the night going over it with her. Of course, one more read through couldn't hurt.

_Booth,_

_Ange will bring her to the courthouse this afternoon. She took the day off to take Sam shopping for her emancipation hearing next week. Did you get that recommendation in on time? Caroline said it might not sway the judge's decision but it couldn't hurt to have as many letters as possible._

_Bones- I was there when caroline told said that remember? of course I turned it in on time, and it's a great letter if I do say so myself. no way the judge sticks her back in the system after reading that puppy. –B_

She grinned and shook her head. He was ridiculous but she found herself feeling a bit more optimistic about the whole thing.

_Booth,_

_You're incorrigible… but I hope you're right._

_Bones- I am right. she's got a psychologist, a famous forensic anthropologist, an FBI agent, a DA, and a couple senators saying she'd be fine on her own. and we'll be there to help her if she needs it right?... btw someday you're going to have to tell me how exactly you get these political big wigs to do your bidding. or do you just contribute to everyone's campaign for safe measure? -B _

She decided it was safe to assume he wasn't actually looking for her to answer his questions, or at least if he did want them answered he'd just pester her over lunch- which according to her computer was pretty soon. She'd been checking and answering her email throughout the morning, in between whatever she happened to be doing, or pretending to do. All in all she hadn't gotten much real work done.

_Booth,_

_This conversation would've been more productive over the phone. _

_Bones- but when I'm on the computer it looks like I'm working. On the phone it just looks like I'm talking. I may not be a genius, but I am kind of brilliant. -B_

Sometimes that belt buckle of his fit him perfectly.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

The knock on the door came right as I was settling into the couch to watch a movie. I would've been annoyed except that my upcoming emancipation hearing had me so jittery that any human interaction, even a delivery boy's or some lost visitor was welcome. I skated across the wood floors in my socks and flung open the door revealing the ever-smirking Max.

"You wouldn't happen to be craving Chinese food would you?"

I grinned, "Make it Italian and I'm in." We had a restaurant we liked to go to- it had something Italian and fattening for every mood, from pizza and fries to rich, buttery homemade pasta. Neither of us could get enough and judging from our expanding waistlines and the fact that the waiters knew us by name, it was quickly becoming an addiction. A few weeks ago I'd been sure we'd never have this again, this teasing, baiting easy friendship. He understood me without explanation, always, but I was so sure that once he knew, once he really knew who I was, he'd be gone in a second. I'd told him a brief summary of my childhood when I found out Tyler had died because I'd needed his help and someone to confide in. Honestly he hadn't seemed all that surprised, apparently I wasn't as suave with the whole fake identity thing as he'd been. If I ever have to do it again I'll be sure to ask him for tips first.

When I was in the hospital though, when I was pulled from Craven's house, Max wasn't there. There was no question in my mind that he'd be angry, I just wasn't sure who he'd be angry **with. **When he'd finally arrived I could see clearly that beneath his concern there was rage humming through his veins. He was furious that I hadn't told him about Craven before, that I'd gone back, that I hadn't called him, that he hadn't been able to protect me. I did finally tell him everything, he's the only one who knows, at least until court day when every little detail will be a matter of public record. I made him promise that if I told him everything he would stay with me in the hospital. I hoped he would think that I just needed company but it was probably fairly obvious that I was just scared. I was afraid that if he left, he might do something stupid like try to spare me the pain of a trial. It wouldn't have been hard, accidents happen in prison all the time.

He'd understood my need for Craven to make it to trial. As much as I was dreading it, I needed to stand up in court and have him answer for what he'd done. So Max tucked his feelings away and gave me what I needed. He's a slick bastard sometimes but he cares about me and he keeps me on my toes.

I noticed the look he was giving me and shook myself out of my reverie, stepping back to let him in the apartment. Thinking too deeply had become a habit lately and it usually left the people around me a little disconcerted. "Just let my grab my wallet and change into something non-pajama."

"Leave the wallet. You can start paying when you become an independent woman." I stuck my head out of the bedroom enough to glare at him.

"And then you'll pay because we're celebrating my independence. **I'm **paying today." I tried to look stern before I yanked myself back into the room to rummage through the clothes I'd just gotten for the hearing. As hungry as I was I wanted to get his opinion on the most 'responsible adult' looking outfit.

"I don't think so. As long as my daughter is your guardian and you're technically my granddaughter you're not paying for anything."

"You do have two legitimate grandchildren to spoil, if you're feeling grandfatherish. I'm perfectly capable of paying for myself." I finally settled on something and pulled it over my head.

"You've been living with my daughter for too long, you're starting to sound like her." I checked myself in the mirror before stepping out into the living room.

"I'll take that as a compliment. How do I look? Do I inspire confidence and embody self reliance?" He gestured for me to spin and looked at me appraisingly.

"I like it I like it."

"But will a judge?"

"Definitely. You'll knock 'em dead in that sweetheart. You might want to lose the clown socks though." I grinned and wiggled my toes.

"They're from Booth, he said they're 'happy socks'."

"That just goes to show you- the man is smitten with both my girls." I honestly don't I'll ever get tired of hearing him include me as one of his girls. Of course being a teenager and free to act as such, I chose to give him the patented teenage-girl-eye-roll instead.

"Tell me something I don't know. Okay let me change into something I can afford to drop marinara sauce on." I skidded quickly back into the room, mindful of my grumbling stomach.

"Also, you may not want to 'sock skate' in the courtroom. Just a suggestion." _Frikin' wiseass. _

All this contentment is honestly a little terrifying. It's hard to trust that it isn't all going to get pulled out from under me. When I met these people I knew they were people I could be friends with. I knew that if I let myself I could care for them and against my better judgment that what happened. What I didn't know, was that they could be my family. It's a little embarrassing that it took so long for me to notice just how deeply they'd wormed their ways into my heart.

After they gave their testimony last week the group of us got together at Founding Fathers. It wasn't a celebration, the verdict wasn't even being considered for another few days, I think we just needed to be in each other's company. We'd crammed in our normal seats, squeezed a little tighter because of Max's added presence but no one seemed to mind. Regardless of the turmoil of the surrounding months we fell into our easy, comfortable habits. Angela and Booth teased Brennan mercilessly. Hodgins gazed adoringly at Angela. Sweets tried and failed to keep his excitement about varying subjects in check, and Max and Booth bantered with an occasional comment from me or Brennan thrown in the mix.

Not much had changed, but everything was different.


End file.
